


All the Time in the World in a Day

by Mondax



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, One Day (book)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 104,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mondax/pseuds/Mondax
Summary: AU. It’s 2005 and Cosima and Delphine just met. They spend one day together and part ways the next day. Amidst leading different lives, they manage to hold on to that special something that latched onto them that first time they met. Over 15 years, snapshots of their hopes, missed opportunities, immaturities, and bad relationships are revealed on the same day – August 6th. Can a day change your life?
Relationships: Delphine Cormier/Cosima Niehaus
Comments: 269
Kudos: 200





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> If you are familiar with the book One Day (or its film adaptation), you'd recognize that it inspires the way this story would be presented, along with some similarities here and there.

The afternoon when Delphine was admitted to the hospital, Cosima was napping in the lounge chair in her study. She was taking a break from work – from back to back meetings with professors and department chairs; from preparing lesson plans tailored for distance learning; and from advising her grad students, trying her best to stick to her “maximum of 10 minutes” rule for feedback and reactions with mixed success.

Barely half a day into her work-from-home day, the pitcher of room temperature water on her desk beside her laptop had gone empty. She kept drinking because her throat kept getting dry, and she didn’t want to risk getting a sore throat - especially during this time. She was too tired to cook come lunchtime so she grabbed a bowl and filled it with raisin bran and milk. She scarfed down the makeshift lunch as she wrote emails about symposium cancellations and suggestions for alternative ways to stage them.

She was halfway done with her correspondence when she felt a bit woozy. “Who knew working from home could be more tiring?” Cosima muttered to the room as she massaged her scrunched eyes with the base of her palms. With the headache not going away, she closed the laptop and grabbed her phone, firing quick messages to everyone who matters. She removed her glasses and blanketed herself with a throw, but not before setting an alarm for 3:30 p.m.

She was roused by her own snores 15 minutes past three. And as she groggily turned off the alarm in her phone, a video message from Delphine jolted her awake.

_“Cosima…”_

She should be bothered by the tone of her voice, but the first thing she noticed was Delphine’s hair. It was in a loose ponytail – something that would look so simple on ordinary people, but not on somebody as extraordinary and beautiful as the blonde. Cosima felt the need to notice the cascade of curls, to appreciate a piece of beauty in a world that seemed to be dead set on going nuts by the minute, by the second.

_“I just got my results…”_ Delphine tried to hide the worry in her eyes, only to be betrayed by her mouth, of a lower lip trapped by her teeth.

_“You know what to do. We’ve talked about this -”_

Cosima’s lips quivered. She wanted to cry, to panic. She had a lot of questions and she wanted answers, never mind if the answers would lead to more difficult questions. But Delphine had always been clear on what she wanted and Cosima would do everything she could to follow her directives to the letter. 

She’d been living a strange half-life almost a month since that afternoon, with her days ending in the early morning and beginning past noon in a house that suddenly felt too big for her. She felt the need to let go of the mornings for now - after all, the optimistic rays shining through the house’s skylights never boded well with her tendencies to over-think and over-worry. Better to reserve those for the dead of night, when all her work was done and when her thoughts mirror the night sky.

She wondered on nights when even her favorite bottle of wine or a fresh, meticulously-wrapped joint couldn’t conjure the slightest sense of calm if she would ever love waking up in the morning again. “Delphine always loved mornings,” Cosima found herself saying out loud in days when she went to sleep right as the sun began to emerge.

Today was different though. Today she had to wake up at 7 a.m. She’d need to shower and get out of her sweats. She’d need to be out of the house early, taking the car instead of the Vespa. Cosima’s eyes took a while to adjust to the morning light as she fumbled for her glasses on the bedside table. She barely had three hours of sleep even if she made a conscious effort to get into bed earlier than her new usual. 

Today may be different but the routine’s the same. Cosima checked her phone as soon as she’s awake, deflating at the thought that things seemed to remain unchanged. She picked the thermometer on the table, checked her temperature and got up from bed when it yielded a normal result. She hooked the phone for a charge before going to the kitchen to make tea. She poured the hot liquid onto a cup and onto a tumbler, closing the lid tight before taking a seat by the kitchen island to nurse the mug around her palms. As she sipped, she read through uploaded medical charts and patient notes on a tablet that before, was only used for reading and following recipes. She combed through the data, still trying her best to not get too personal or emotional by sticking to the science and to the medicine.

Punctuality was never Cosima’s strong suit, but today she’s unusually prompt. She pulled out of the garage by 9:05, giving her plenty of time to make it to her 10 a.m. appointment even if there would be pockets of traffic at the 280 and 101. She parked at Delphine’s designated slot, the entire drive only taking less than 30 minutes, before she emptied the tumbler of tea and locked the car. She breathed deeply before wearing a mask, preparing for the short hike from the parking lot and into the hospital. One of the health workers assigned at the hospital’s entrance took her temperature - 98.2° - while she answered a health declaration form. After a few pumps of hand sanitizer, Cosima made her way to her meeting, not even bothering to ask for directions because she already knew the drill.

“Cosima,” Scottie – Dr. Scott Smith in this neck of the woods – calmly said as he walked towards her while waiting outside the designated conference room for intensive care cases. Their friend looked worse for wear: he wore a mask but she knew that the usual toothy smile wasn’t lurking behind it. The bags under his eyes seemed magnified by his rectangular-framed glasses. His lab coat and khakis were wrinkled - as if he had been sleeping in the lab, which was probably for the best, Cosima thought. With his lab partner sick, Scottie wouldn’t want to risk bringing home the virus to his wife and child. Besides, Delphine wouldn’t want their lab to stop working on knowing more about the virus enough for them to develop a possible vaccine even if she’s infirmed, not even if she’s on her deathbed. 

“I figured you can use some company,” and Cosima nodded, “Dr. Cruz will be here in a bit. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, all things considered…” Cosima said with a thrifty smile behind her mask. “How is she?”

“You know what I know,” Scottie replied, “but I hope today we turn a corner.”

“That…” Cosima said, taking off her glasses to wipe fogged lenses, “or this is it.” A knock on the door halted their conversation as a man in his late 40s with kind eyes and salt and pepper hair entered the room.

“Dr. Cormier has been on a ventilator for five days,” Dr. Cruz said. Internally, Cosima blamed Delphine’s asthma which didn’t prevent the blonde from picking up an unhealthy nicotine habit. “But the result of her nasopharyngeal swab yesterday reveals that she’s already negative for COVID-19. Her lungs appear better based on her latest scans and her labs look promising, as you can see in her online chart.” Cosima fidgeted to get her phone from her pocket to look at the updated lab results Dr. Cruz mentioned. She breathed out a sigh of temporary relief as she analyzed the latest figures and when she saw how much the white patches in Delphine’s lungs had shrunk dramatically since her previous scans. 

“Dr. Niehaus, today we will be turning off Dr. Cormier’s sedative drip,” he continued. In the earlier days of her hospital stay, they thought she was getting better even if she still tested positive for the coronavirus. But 15 days into her confinement, Delphine’s difficulty in breathing worsened. She refused intubation at first, much to Cosima’s horror, only agreeing to it when the scans showed large patches of what looked like ground grass at the bottom of both her lungs. 

“The next 24 hours will be critical,” Dr. Cruz added, “as we get her out of the medically induced coma, the expectation is that she should start to wake up after six to 12 hours. But in some patients with severe cases - ”

“It takes a day or more,” Cosima said and the doctor agreed. It was one of the anomalies that Delphine was researching, bouncing ideas with Cosima to get a different perspective. “You’d do an MRI if she doesn’t wake up in 24 hours?”

“Yes,” and Dr. Cruz took off his face shield. “She is one of us, Dr. Niehaus,” he said, looking at her straight in the eye. “She is the best version of us - a hero.” Cosima knew how frustrated Delphine was in the weeks leading to her hospitalization as every study and experiment on the virus yielded insignificant results. So frustrated was Delphine that she traded her lab coat for her doctor’s coat, pitching in at the COVID ward to tend to patients instead. _“I can’t be that useless. At least there I know I’m helping out,”_ she remembered her saying over the phone. It was probably the only time she hated Delphine’s MD, PhD titles.

“I assure you that we would do our very best work to help her recover,” and even if half his face was covered by a mask, Cosima knew he was sincere.

She averted her eyes from the doctor to look at her clasped hands on her lap. “Can I see her? And I don’t mean on video,” and Cosima pointed at her phone – at the live, slightly pixelated video feed showing Delphine lying on an ICU bed. “Can I at least see her from outside the room?”

She dreaded all possible answers to her request: if Dr. Cruz rejected her plea, it would be 23 days since she last saw Delphine in the flesh. But she remembered the hospital visitor restrictions in response to the pandemic - “ _Video visitation only for COVID-19 Adult patients at all times_ ,” it said, with exceptions only considered “ _at the end of life.”_

For an agonizingly long minute, Dr. Cruz remained still before showing his approval with a curt nod. “I can only give you 10 minutes,” he added. She wanted to inappropriately laugh, remembering how she repeatedly said a variant of that sentence to her grad students on the day Delphine entered the hospital not as a doctor but as a patient.

Dr. Cruz stepped out then and from six feet away, Cosima could feel how much Scott wanted to empathize. “She’ll pull through, Cos,” he said, settling for those words instead of hugging her. He quietly stayed with her until Dr. Cruz and a nurse returned with a set of personal protective equipment. She unsealed it from the plastic wrapping and wore it over her clothes. She’d exchanged her dreadlocks for shorter curly hair a few years ago, which made it easier to secure it inside the protective clothing. Scott watched her get ready, promising Cosima he’d be waiting outside the conference room after her 10-minute visit.

She wordlessly followed Dr. Cruz and the nurse. Before entering the ICU, another nurse took her temperature and asked her an array of questions about sore throats, flu-like symptoms, and if she traveled outside the state or the country in the past 14 days. “I was in San Francisco the whole time,” she managed to say, only barely shoving down the feeling of helplessness at watching the blonde deteriorate through the installed cameras in her room. They walked past three ICU rooms before they stopped walking, the sights behind the sliding glass doors giving her a preview of what to expect. 

“You have 10 minutes,” Dr. Cruz reminded her before leaving to give her some privacy.

Cosima stood by the glass door and smiled. Delphine looked so fragile – she looked thinner and her usually vibrant skin had gone sallow. _She’s hanging on at least_ , she told herself as she watched the up-and-down movements of her chest. But pretty soon her view became blurry, the mixture of her breath and her tears making her glasses and face shield foggy.

She took a hold of herself, not wanting to spend her borrowed time with only glimmers of Delphine. Cosima wondered then if she could have dissuaded her from leaving the lab. Maybe she should have protested more vehemently when she said she requested for hospital privileges. But then again, she knew she was at the losing end of that argument when the blonde turned the tables at her.

“ _If it’s you, what would you do?_ ” Delphine asked her. Cosima would have done the same. _“I don’t think I can look at myself in the mirror knowing that I could have helped but didn’t,”_ she told Delphine. Looking at her now, Cosima thought that maybe she should have lied to her – it wouldn’t be the first time anyway, whether or not the blonde would have believed that was a different topic altogether.

As her vision became clearer, Cosima noticed that the blinds on the room’s windows were wide open. They’re half-shut in the afternoon when Cosima usually woke up to check up on Delphine in her phone for the first time within a day. 

But today the sun was up - a perfect morning for brunch, and from this vantage point, the sunlight bathed Delphine’s blonde hair. Cosima’s heart fluttered at the vision and at the memories it stoked: of mornings when she woke up next to Delphine in their bed at their house, begging for time to move a little slower so they could snuggle before they had to get up for work; on a particularly sunny vacation day when she held on tight to Delphine aboard a scooter, her hair blowing in the wind giving Cosima an intoxicating whiff of her shampoo; on that afternoon in a park bench 15 years ago when Delphine ran her fingers through her hair, the first time she took Cosima’s breath away. 

She didn’t have much time so Cosima held on to the beauty, tuning out the machines hooked to Delphine and the sounds it made in a sterile hospital room.

“Please don’t die on me, Cormier,” she whispered. “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to this new multi-chapter story :). Thank you so much for giving it a shot and please let me know what you think of it, what you like and didn't like in the comments.
> 
> My biggest thanks to Corsan who knew of this idea months ago while we talked about Love Match and The Antz, and who made the time to read this story when it was a jumbled mess (it still is, my friend). Also a tip of the hat to AnaSalafica for the additional feedback. :) 
> 
> Stay safe and well!


	2. August 6, 2005

Looking out for someone she barely knew in a foreign country was not part of the deal when Delphine signed up to T.A. for her Health Law professor who was invited to speak in an international conference. But here she was now, rummaging for a pre-packed suit in someone else’s closet. Suit slung over her shoulder she closed the door, making sure she had the room key in hand. She took a glance at her wristwatch in the short walk down the hall, knowing that she had to be ready in record time if they’re going to make it to tonight’s soiree.

She entered her own room and plopped down the suit on her bed, scoffing at the errand she had to run. “I did not sign up for this,” she voiced out, hurriedly undressing before hopping in the shower. She unwisely planned on wearing her hair straight for tonight, to hell with humidity. But hard-pressed for time, the next best thing was to leave her curls alone and find a way to get it under control. “This would have to do,” she said as she ran a good amount of leave-in conditioner in her slightly damp hair. 

Delphine wanted to wear her blue suit tonight, remembering how it amused her at first glance - how to her untrained eye, the suit’s print resembled an artistic rendition of multiplying amoebas. She was going to wear it with a pinstriped blue ribbon blouse, but the unexpected trip to an unknown address would only wrinkle the ensemble. She settled for retaining the sensible gray heels she was planning to wear with the amoeba suit but opted to wear something simpler: striped, navy red trousers; a red sweater blouse; and a thin, long black jacket in case it gets cold. 

She got into a cab with the folded covered suit on her lap, telling the driver the address. “Emeryville,” the driver noted and she nodded before he sped off. Delphine didn’t even know what Emeryville was, only focusing on reading about Berkeley and San Francisco in preparation for this trip. She was hesitant at first so she went online, agreeing to the task upon seeing that the address was only 10 minutes away from the hotel. The worst that could happen to her in doing this favor was that she’d be a bit late for the conference dinner. Besides, this could be an opportunity to get a better feel of the area. 

She passed the time by looking at the sights behind the window. It’s very laid back, most of the people in hoodies and sweats. And although the outfits seemed comfortable, she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them if she’s in Paris. She was reminded that this conference’s biggest pull on her was the venue. U.C. Berkeley was her wildcard pick for her postgraduate studies, and five days of being a T.A. for a professor she respected would help her to decide whether or not she goes through with her application.

“We’re here,” the driver said as he stopped by a driveway and pointed at the number on the house with fading blue paint. It caught her off-guard because the streets all looked the same and there were no landmarks indicating that they’d left Berkeley. Standing on the sidewalk as the taxi sped off, she had never felt so out of place. The laid back people she watched from the windows of the conference hall all week and from the back of a cab for 15 minutes seemed even more relaxed and casual in their natural habitat.

The balding, stout man in his flannel pajamas and matching robe sitting on the stairs of the house was eyeing her carefully. She was walking towards him to ask if she got the right address, only for him to point to the house at back. She felt a bit lost in the shuffle, but she still walked to where the man was pointing, seeing another set of stairs leading to another apartment.

She climbed the stairs, mentally cursing the owner of the suit she had to lug around. She tentatively knocked on the door of the house marked “1052B,” convinced that she would just leave the package to whoever answers it so she could head back to Berkeley immediately. When nobody came to the door, she knocked again, firmer and louder. She was about to leave the covered suit on the wooden deck chair when she heard a voice from inside the house.

“Doors open, just come in!” It was a woman’s voice and even through the walls, the voice sounded inviting, warm. Delphine held the knob and gently twisted it open, confusedly clutching on to the darned suit that brought her here. The apartment was messy – like somebody threw a party the night before and the guests didn’t even bother to pretend to clean up. There were bottles on the window sills, some half-filled with stale beer and cigarette butts. Empty pizza boxes and red plastic cups were strewn all over the short hallway leading to the living room where a few coats were haphazardly thrown on a gray couch.

Delphine stayed close to the door, ready to leave and run, when the woman spoke again.

“Hey I’m making some tea, do you want some?” She didn’t know to answer at first but she was already shaking her head when the voice said, “come on! Take a load off. You came all the way here from the city just for me… Least I can do is offer you a hot beverage.”

The woman had a point, Delphine thought. The trip did cost her 15 dollars even though it took less than 15 minutes to get here from Berkeley. And if she was being honest with herself, she wanted to put a face on the warm, cheery voice. She sat on the sofa, moving the coats to make room for the bagged suit, when she heard footsteps approaching her. She instantly looked. The brunette woman in dreadlocks wearing black-framed glasses, a tight blank tank top and loose batik pants was bearing two mugs of tea. She seemed as taken aback as she was.

“Whoa! I wasn’t expecting that. You’re new, aren’t you?!” And the woman handed her a mug before setting her own on the coffee table littered with books, papers, and knick-knacks. She pushed the coats and the suit to the center of the couch to make space for herself on the edge.

“Désolée…New to what?” Delphine asked and when the woman heard her accented voice, her brows and lips crinkled in amusement.

“And French? Wow, Felix really did well. Top-notch customer service…Really knows his lesbian target market.” Delphine knew a Felix back in Paris - a classmate from medical school who left the program to be a musician. She’d watched him perform live and he’s pretty good. But she’s very sure that the Felix she knew and the Felix this woman was talking about were not one and the same.

“I’m really sorry,” Delphine said, sipping the offered tea, “but I’m afraid I don’t follow…”

“Oh,” and the amusement in the woman’s face was replaced with a hint of confusion. “Did Felix not fill you in about the gig? The last time he did that, the poor girl freaked.”

It was Delphine’s turn to be utterly confused…and alarmed. What the hell did she just get into? “Felix did not send me here for anything,” she said firmly and in her most formal tone, aiming to clear whatever insinuation the woman was making.

“So you don’t have my weed?” The woman asked, pushing her glasses with her finger.

“Non, I do not have your weed,” and Delphine’s words were laced with an unmistakable irritation.

“Then what are you doing here?” The woman was back to looking more amused and curious than inconvenienced as she leaned back on the couch with a mug in her hands.

“I’m here for Cal,” and Delphine took out her phone. “He texted me this address this morning,” and she shows the woman her phone, extending her arm over the pile of clothes between them for her to show his message so she can read it for herself. “He begged me to bring his suit because -”

“Wait,” and the woman had gone back to being perplexed. “Sorry, I just woke up...Synapses aren't firing yet. Who’s Cal?”

And like clockwork, a deep voice making raunchy, bearish sounds from the other side of the wall filled the spaces of the small living room.

“I’m guessing that’s Cal,” the woman said, pointing to the wall with a snicker. Delphine blushed as the deep voice was joined by another voice producing a high-pitched moan. “And that would be Sarah, my roommate,” the woman said with a shrug. “Wait, you’re not his girlfriend aren’t you?”

“Non,” Delphine said quickly. “He is a colleague, kind of.”

“Just checking,” the woman smiled before taking a huge gulp of tea. “Won’t be the first time Sarah brought home someone complicated. Still, I didn’t fully strike out - I got something right,” and the mischievous crinkle in the woman’s eyes returned.

“And what would that be?” Delphine asked, surprised by her own growing curiosity for the woman inside the messy apartment.

“I mean, I was right - you are new…Well, at least to me. So who are you?” And Delphine noticed the woman giving her what seemed to be her most charming smile. It contributed to the words she said next.

“Delphine,” and she extended her hand through the pile of clothes again.

“Cosima,” the woman said, taking the proffered hand in hers. Delphine got the unmistakable sense of confidence in the woman’s voice as she said her name, like she knew how fitting her unique name was to her personality. For a minute, she felt a bit jealous, her full name only special because of her last name and all its make-believe allure. But the jealousy was quickly replaced by a sense of astonishment. 

“Enchantée…” She couldn’t help but say, giving Cosima’s hand a firm grip.

“Uhm...Enchantée,” Cosima tried to copy her pronunciation which made Delphine smile. She was trying to quickly figure out why this woman seemed so endearing when the moaning from the other room got louder, more boisterous.

“Okay, you wanna get out of here?” Cosima asked as the voices were paired with vigorous pounding sounds on the wall. Delphine couldn’t agree any faster. “Cool, I’ll go get dressed very quickly and I’ll meet you at the porch.”

Delphine stepped out to the porch but not before giving Cosima a timid smile. She lit a cigarette and sat on the lawn chair, checking the time and seeing that she had at most 45 minutes to spare before she really had to get going. At this point, she was ready to head back to Berkeley with or without Cal, set on quickly thanking Cosima for the cup of tea so she could be on her way.

“Do you like Mexican?” Delphine heard Cosima ask through the door and she stood from the chair. She didn’t expect that they would actually go somewhere together and she was about to say that she had a prior commitment when the door opened. “There is a killer taqueria just a couple of blocks away from here,” and Cosima put her dreadlocks in a messy bun as she put on a thin red coat. She noticed how she towered over the American and that apart from putting on makeup - a winged eyeliner - a pair of brown sandals, and a coat, Cosima was wearing the exact same clothes she did when she first saw her.

“Mexican is okay,” Delphine said, surprised by the feeling of wanting to spend a few more minutes with Cosima. She figured she could use a light meal before the soiree because who really gets to eat during stuffy, formal conference dinners. She followed her as she went down the stairs, the cigarette she’d lit only halfway finished. She had time to spare, she reassured herself as they reached the sidewalk where the taxi dropped her off and began to walk.

“So,” and Cosima stuffed her hands in the coat’s pocket, “you got a last name to go with your pretty name? Mine’s Niehaus by the way,” and Delphine thanked the shorter woman’s bravado which spared her from asking her full name. She gave her a hesitant smile as she blew off a puff of smoke. “Cormier,” she reluctantly said, waiting if the last name sparked any hint of recognition.

“Delphine Cormier,” Cosima said, trying out her full name on her lips for the first time. “That’s a nice name. Very French. You are French, right?”

Delphine nodded and smiled. “And you’re Cosima Niehaus,” she said, mirroring Cosima’s intent. It’s indeed an interesting name for an interesting person, she thought.

“What brings you here, Delphine Cormier? Well, apart from dropping off Cal’s suit,” Cosima said, grabbing Delphine’s arm immediately so they could avoid glass shards on the sidewalk. The slight touch and its gentle warmth caught her by surprise.

“Uhm,” and Delphine put out the cigarette with her shoe, making sure to pick up the litter to throw it in an open trash can. Cosima waited and watched as she rejoined her. “There is this international conference in Berkeley this week and I was there as an assistant to my professor - ”

“The Science and Society Conference?” Cosima asked, her sense of familiarity putting Delphine at ease. “I was there actually - on the first day. My research adviser, Professor Bagdady, was the plenary speaker for the talk on patient screening practices for assisted reproductive technologies.” Cosima grabbed her arm nonchalantly again, steering Delphine towards turning right. The touch inexplicably made her hold her breath.

“Yes,” Delphine said as she breathed out. “So you’re a scientist?”

“Well,” Cosima looked down on the ground, “kind of. Bio was my undergrad - Cell and Developmental Biology,” and Delphine tried to not get too caught up in staring as Cosima gesticulated wildly. “And I’m finishing a Biostatistics degree now. All here in good old Cal…So if I look like a duck, swim like a duck, and quack like a duck, then I’m probably a duck.”

“That’s a yes, right?” Delphine quipped playfully as her heels crunched the gravel of the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” and Cosima sheepishly smiled. “I have less than a year left before I get to dive deep into my PhD. So you’re a scientist too?”

“Yes,” Delphine said, “at least that’s the hope. I’m looking at getting my doctorate after I finished my assignment with MSF.”

“You’re a doctor?” Cosima said and Delphine nodded. She noticed that there seemed to be a delight in the American’s voice as they changed topics. “And Cal,” she added, pointing to the direction of her apartment, “is a schoolmate in med school?”

“Non,” Delphine clarified. “He’s a T.A. for one of the visiting speakers for the conference, Professor Birch from McMaster University in Canada. My professor and his professor are…euh, involved. So he and I spend a lot of time together this week - ”

“While the professors are in the sack,” Cosima smirked and Delphine was lost in the idiom. “You know, doing it, having sex.”

“Yes,” Delphine said with a light chuckle. “We were at this bar last night with the other T.A.s and I went back to the hotel and he stayed behind. The next thing I know, I’m carrying his suit to your apartment. And he is…ehm, in the sack…? Did I use it right? With your roommate, Sarah.”

“Hey! You’re a quick study. We’re here, by the way,” Cosima said, the warmth of her voice putting Delphine even more at ease. 

The first thing Delphine thought when she saw the restaurant was that it was smoky and warm. It smelled of tasty meat, reminding her that she hasn’t had a meal since breakfast. Its interiors are quite workman-like but colorful and cute, with a walk-up order counter, a pick-up window, and a few tables inside. Lively mariachi music played from several small speakers on the corners of the ceiling.

Delphine noticed the man behind the grill grinning from his station when he saw Cosima. “Don’t worry, she isn’t here,” he said to Cosima who just brushed him off with a smile.

“Who isn’t here?” Delphine asked as they fell in line to order.

“Ah, Vanessa,” Cosima replied, “she’s kind of an ex-girlfriend. Didn’t end well - ”

“Because she was doing Mandy on the side,” the girl behind the counter with a nameplate that said “Diane” interjected with a fake smile. “So what can I get you?”

“She’s Vanessa’s friend,” Cosima whispered apologetically to Delphine, “and we were never exclusive,” she said to Diane. “I’ll have the veggie brocco-taco, two bottles of water, and a -”

“Mexico City Steak Taco,” Delphine said, slightly amused at the awkwardness she found herself in as she fished for her wallet in her purse.

“Hey, I’m paying,” Cosima said as Diane punched in their orders. “It’s the least I can do – I mean, I did mistake you for a drug mule back there,” she joked. 

But Delphine still got a 20 dollar bill from her wallet. “Well in that case, I should be the one paying…” And she bit her lip. “I thought you were soliciting me for sex and that Felix was your or my, ahh…le souteneur?”

“A pimp?” Cosima asked, the beginnings of laughter already bubbling up from her lips.

“Oui, a pimp,” and Delphine handed in the bill as Diane sarcastically snorted. “Cosima, they’re not going to spit in our food, right?” She whispered to the woman’s ear.

“Nah,” and Cosima walked to the counter, “because I’ll watch it like a hawk. Why don’t you go get us seats outside? Wouldn’t want your clothes to smell like grilled meat.” And she looked at Delphine from head to foot. It surprised her that not only did she not mind being checked out by the shorter woman, she also liked it. Maybe the flutter in her stomach was not just because she’s quite hungry for food. 

“You look young to be a doctor,” Cosima slyly noted, loosening her coat before putting down the tray of food and taking a seat. “Yeah, I was waiting for our tacos and I saw you sitting here and it hit me. We look like we’re of the same age. I’m 26 - ”

“I’m 25,” Delphine said, taking her first bite. She dabbed her thumb on the corner of her lips to clean a piece of salsa. She was taking another bite when she saw Cosima looking at her as if studying her.

“See, young for a doctor,” she said, snapping out of whatever trance she got into. “I’m older than you, and I’m still trying to finish my masters. I mean that’s good in general, but next to you, I feel like an underachiever, a slacker.”

“I started school early and I skipped a grade in elementary school,” Delphine said, taking a sip of water.

“Now you’re just showing off,” and Cosima flicked a piece of taco towards Delphine which she flicked back.

“What did you mean before,” Delphine asked, finishing her first taco. “When you said Felix has top-notch customer service…”

“Oh, that,” Cosima said after drinking. “Felix is an artist in the Bay Area. On the side, he supplies weed. One time -” and Delphine rested a shoulder on the table, her palm nestling her chin, surprisingly interested in the story. “We sampled some of his new products in his studio and he asked me about my idea of a perfect girl. I was baked, so I told him the most impossible combination: someone beautiful but not bitchy; tall but not too tall; definitely intelligent – someone who’s not going to gork on me when I talk about sacred geometry; blonde; dry sense of humor; kind eyes; kind soul. So when I saw you on my sofa, I thought, ‘wow, Felix found her! My 100% perfect girl.' And the slimy bastard is dangling her in front of me like a carrot on a stick so I keep buying from him.”

Delphine smirked. She’s aware that she’s beautiful. Men – classmates, random people in labs, libraries, parties, subway cars, and bars - always reminded her of that with their objectification, be it accidental or intended. It was both an inconvenience and an advantage, but she’d learn to take things in stride. It surprised her now, in the middle of an unfamiliar city, how much she’s enjoying being hit on by Cosima. It’s not the smoothest of lines – she thought she was a drug courier for crying out loud – but here she was, interested to hear more. 

“How can you even be sure I’m all these things?” Delphine said, playing coy. “I could be a dumb blonde bitch for all you know.”

“Say bitch one more time,” Cosima said, mouth half full with tacos.

“Bitch,” she acquiesced.

“Sorry,” and Cosima swallowed her food and smirked, “the accent makes the word funnier, more severe. And how do I know? I don’t know, process of elimination? Power of observation? You’re gorgeous, that’s a given. You’re not a snob, not a bitch. If you were, I think you’d have thrown a hissy fit back at the apartment when I mistook you for Felix’s bagwoman. You humored my craving for Mexican food and you’re quick to laugh. You’re obviously intelligent – a doctor at 25, skipped a grade. And obviously kind, I mean,” and Cosima gestured with her hands, “volunteering for Doctors without Borders even if you seem privileged, even if you seem to have the world at your feet. Seriously, are you even real?”

“Okay, what made you say I’m privileged?” Delphine curiously asked.

“Your watch,” and Cosima wrapped a hand around her left wrist, “it’s the kind of watch that’s passed on from one generation to another.”

“Touché,” and Delphine checked the watch, only to get a glance that she didn’t have much time left. “But,” and she pushed away the notion of time, “you got something wrong.”

“Really? What?” Cosima asked, her eyes twinkling.

“I’m not a natural blonde,” and their laughter filled the open space.

“Hey, do you want to go get a drink with me?” And Delphine looked down, unsure how to turn down the most interesting person she had met in her short stay in California, in quite a while if she’s being honest. “I know you have somewhere else to be back on campus, it’s just that…I don’t know about you, but I don’t want this to end. I want to keep talking to you. So maybe we can get a quick drink at that bar you were in with Cal last night before your dinner?”

Delphine considered the invite and was set to reluctantly decline, but Cosima spoke again. “Or we can just share a cab to campus? I’ll split the fare with you. I need to get to the library anyway to check out some books.”

“Okay,” Delphine found herself saying, “one drink. And then I’m off to dinner and you’re going to the library.”

\-----

“What is this, Cosima?” Delphine asked as Cosima returned from the bar with two tall mugs of what looked like a chocolate drink with ice cream.

“It’s a root beer float, in celebration of today,” and Cosima took a sip, “today is National Root Beer Float Day.”

Delphine couldn’t help but be confused, but she set aside the confusion to remove the cream on Cosima’s top lip with her thumb. “I’ve never had it…root beer.”

“Seriously? There’s no root beer in France?” Cosima said, her face pink and bathed in curiosity.

“Non, but I’ve seen it once,” and Delphine took a tentative sip and made a face, “in a foreign food aisle of a supermarket. But that’s it. Does it really taste like vodka?” She asked before taking another sip.

“Well,” and it was Cosima’s turn to wipe off foam on the corner of Delphine’s lips, “this one is an adult root beer. So, do you like it?” Putting the creamy fingertip to her lips. 

“It’s different...” Delphine said, suddenly overwhelmed by an emotion she couldn’t pinpoint. “But I like it.” In reality, the best thing about the drink was the company it came with, and the hint of vodka and ice cream. “And it’s a very tall glass of drink.”

“Might as well make the one-for-the-road count, right?” Cosima said. Delphine knew she picked the right spot beside a pool table where it’s mostly quiet. The night before, she could barely hear Cal and the other T.A.s because they were sitting right by the bar. “So I’m assuming you’re thinking of going here for your PhD?” Cosima asked. “Either that or you just want to have one last vacation before flying off to Port-au-Prince.” In the short cab ride back to Berkeley, Delphine was able to tell Cosima about her MSF assignment to Haiti which would start next week.

“I’m thinking about it,” she said, sipping her adult float slowly. “I’ve already sent out applications – Oxford, Cornell, McGill…”

“Huh,” Cosima exclaimed, the face she made clued Delphine in that the comment was not meant to be said out loud. She furrowed her brows, egging the dreadlocked American to elaborate.

“Nothing,” and Cosima motioned with her hands, “you came from the Faculty of Medicine of the University of Paris. _Le Sorbonne_ ,” Cosima hammed up the pronunciation which made Delphine snort. “It’s just that all these other schools – Berkeley included, seems so far away from home. Like you're running away from something…So are you?”

Delphine played with the straw in her mug, contemplating how she should answer this question, if she should answer this question.

“Come on, out with it Cormier,” Cosima quipped, sensing her hesitation. “After this drink, you’d be off to your gala and I’d be in the library. We’ll go our separate ways, never to see or hear from each other again. So your secret’s safe with me.”

“Tell me one of yours and I just might tell you why,” Delphine said, “so I wouldn’t feel so vulnerable and exposed after.” It’s only fair, she thought.

“Okay,” and Cosima took a swig at her drink. “I think I’m flaming out,” Cosima said, the cheekiness replaced by something serious. “Everyone thinks I’m still working on my research, but I’ve actually already done it. I could have finished my masters this semester, taken an oral exam instead of writing a thesis, but I deliberately left out a couple of subjects so I could coast next term and delay starting my PhD.”

“Why is that?” Delphine asked. “Are you one of those people who were forced by their parents to take this course? Like maybe you want to be something else and not a scientist?” At that, Delphine noticed that Cosima looked offended. She was all cheeky smiles and witty comments all late afternoon, and the slightest hint of discomfort on the American’s face made her feel a bit guilty. She was about to apologize, but then Cosima gave her a shy smile.

“No, it’s not that. I love being a scientist,” and Cosima leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “But, there’s gotta be more to life than hitting the books and doing lab work. You should know? Isn’t that the reason why you’re flying off to Port-au- Prince?” And Delphine nodded. “See, you get it. I guess I just want to see what’s out there for me, you know? What life outside science and academia looks like…To see life in all its complicated glory with my own eyes, and not just through a microscope. And with a full course load, I couldn’t really see what’s out there. So, yeah, the last two courses I’m going to take can be taken remotely, I just have to be here for the finals. I’m planning to travel this fall. I’ll be in Asia – Thailand, Vietnam, maybe even Cambodia, then India. I actually planned on taking a gap year before and after my undergrad, but it never panned out because I didn’t have the money, so I’m doing it now. ”

“If you’re really serious about being in Thailand in the next months,” Delphine said, “you should meet up with my brother, Jérémie. He’s been there for years. He’s been running a nonprofit for marginalized farmers and their families. You could get free lodging and food in exchange for volunteer work.”

“Thailand?” And Cosima grinned again, “now that’s even farther than Haiti. Honestly, what are you guys running away from? Or is it just a family legacy to be do-gooders? Bet the parentals are proud of you two.”

“Well, that’s debatable. And that’s what we’re running away from, I think,” Delphine said, “family – our parents.” Cosima scooted closer to the table, already invested in her story. “Our parents are, for lack of a better term, socialites. My father is a count and my mother is the bastard daughter of a prominent French painter. But she's his only child. They are…insipide, fade. Vapid, I think is the best English translation for it. They don’t really care what we do. And I think that they’d like it more if we didn’t do anything but attend soirees, regattas, and galas. Everything I’m doing is in an effort to not turn into them.” And Delphine took a healthy sip of her drink. “So the farther away I am from Paris, the better the chances of me not planning my life around attending the Monaco Grand Prix or the Paris Fashion Week.”

“It’s that bad?” Cosima asked. “I mean, I’m just playing devil’s advocate here, but what’s so bad about going to the French Riviera and dressing up every once in a while?”

“It’s not that that’s bad,” Delphine conceded. “And maybe I’m overreacting...But to me, it’s what those things stood for that’s just awful. They have this tremendous amount of wealth and influence, and all they do is piss it away on society parties for people they don’t seem to like; on antiques that would be tucked away in some room that nobody uses; on houses only used during summer; on yachts they couldn’t drive. My Maman always said I could never escape my last name, and that was the case in Paris. When I got into Lycée Henri-IV and when I got into med school, everybody assumed that my lineage had something to do with it, and not my grades. And you know what, maybe it did. So if I can’t escape it in Paris, I think I can escape it outside Paris.” 

“I get it,” and Cosima finished her drink, “you want to carve your own path. You want to contribute. I get that. But still, they must have done something right…Like how did two vapid socialites produce an advocate for poor Thai farmers and an MSF doctor?”

“Because they didn’t raise us,” Delphine said. She tried to hide any hint of sadness in her voice, but the concerned look on the brunette’s face told her that she was unsuccessful. “We were raised by an aunt – a distant relative really. She took us with her in the language center where she volunteered as an English and French teacher for refugees. She died a year before I got my bac, ehm, finished high school.”

Cosima reached out to hold her hand, and Delphine allowed the touch and found an unfamiliar comfort in it. “I’m sorry,” Cosima said. “But it’s not all that bad, right? I mean, level with me here Cormier, there’s gotta be some perks to being a hot French countess.”

Delphine laughed, relieved that the lightness and cheekiness remained even if their conversations had taken a turn for the serious. “I don’t get the title, but Jérémie will. And there are perks, I will admit. I love tennis. I played a bit as a teenager and I still play recreationally when I have the time. My father inherited the rights to a Stade Roland Garros courtside box in Court Philippe Chatrier so I get to watch any match I want up close.”

“Okay,” and Delphine watched Cosima as she watched her drink the rest of her root beer float, “I don’t know anything about tennis, but that seems like a big deal.” She followed the brunette’s eyes to her now empty glass.

“Let me get the next round,” Delphine said, standing from her chair. She turned around as she walked to the bar, feeling an unexpected giddiness when brown, bespectacled smiling eyes met hers.

\-----

“Did you just miss your dinner thingy?” Cosima said as she pocketed her phone. Delphine noticed four root beer floats ago that yes, she was going to miss the conference dinner, and that Cosima’s phone hadn’t stopped blinking with a new message for the last hour.

“Yes. Do you have a Vanessa texting you?” Delphine asked with a wry smile.

“Nah,” and Cosima finished her seventh spiked float. “Vanessa hasn’t texted me since dumping me and habanero salsa on my head. Now, habanero salsa, awesome in a taco. Not so much when it had seeped into your hair.”

“Or is it a Mandy?” Delphine teased. Why? She didn’t know.

“Mandy was a one-off,” Cosima replied. “There was a party at the house and we were drunk. One thing led to another…”

“What I’m asking you, Cosima Niehaus,” Delphine interrupted, “is if there’s a poor girl waiting for you in the library while you’re here, spending time with a girl you barely know. A girl who’s leaving tomorrow...A girl you’d probably forget come morning and never see again.”

Delphine watched as Cosima leaned back in her chair, putting clasped hands at the back of her head, stretching soft muscles and curves that Delphine had been subtly looking at all night. “Well, you’re leaving tomorrow. It would be rude to leave you alone on your last night in the States.”

“So there is a girl?” Delphine said, biting her lower lip at the delicious thought that she’s gotten the upper hand in the conversation.

“She’ll still be here tomorrow,” Cosima said. “But you won’t,” and Delphine caught a roughness in the brunette’s voice.

“Would you be a good host and walk me back to my hotel?” Delphine said, unsure why she’s extending this invitation.

“Of course,” Cosima said, wearing her coat and standing up. “Come on,” and Delphine stood up and took her hand.

“I didn’t know you were staying at the Y,” Cosima said. It was a short walk away from the bar and maybe it was the sweet alcoholic drinks or the thought that she’s leaving tomorrow that made Delphine ask Cosima up to her room for a nightcap. She easily agreed of course, sitting on the bed as she waited for the promised drink. And as Delphine heated water for their tea in her room’s electric kettle, she felt Cosima’s warmth on her back.

“Delphine,” and with a shy smile, she turned around and found herself face to face with Cosima. “I’ve been wanting to do something all day.” Her lips tasted of cream and root beer. And while root beer was an acquired taste, Delphine realized as the soft kiss deepened that the American’s lips were an innate taste for her.

Her hands found their way on the small of Cosima’s back, her body craving more as Cosima’s hands under her blouse grazed her waist. She slipped out of her heels, allowing herself to be pulled to the bed. The brunette took off her top as she sat on the mattress. It emboldened Delphine to take off her own blouse before Cosima pulled her straddle her lap.

“Wait, wait,” Delphine said, resting her forehead on Cosima's which made the American stop from peppering tiny kisses over her bra-covered breasts. “You know, I’ve never done this before,” she confessed.

“What?” Cosima said, still with a cheeky grin. “Sleep with someone you just met?”

“Non. Be with another woman,” and Delphine hurriedly kissed Cosima before standing up. “I need to freshen up. Give me five minutes?” Cosima nodded before releasing her hands.

She immediately went to the bathroom, splashing her face with water and gargling with a mouthwash. “I am really doing this,” Delphine said not as a confused question but as an excited statement. She knew she wasn’t drunk enough to not know what she’s about to do, and as she removed her pants, she realized just how much she wanted to spend the night with Cosima. She tossed the moist garment in exchange for a fresh one, and debated for a bit whether to take her bra off. She eventually settled for retaining her underwear and wearing her bathrobe over them, meaning to entice Cosima with an intimate peek at her body. She opened the door, ready to deliciously finish what she started when she noticed that the brunette was no longer on the bed.

“You’re leaving?” Delphine asked, berating herself for her stupid question. The answer was obvious - Cosima was walking towards the door. She had worn back her top and had her coat slung on her arm while carrying her pair of sandals with her other hand.

“Yeah,” Cosima said sheepishly. “It’s not you…It’s…Had I known that you’re straight, that you’ve never slept with a woman before, I wouldn’t have pushed.” There was still a smile there, Delphine noted, but it’s now devoid of flirtation and filled with wordless apologies.

“You didn’t push me to do anything,” Delphine said, masking the hurt by closing her robe and tightening the belt around her waist before sitting on the bed.

Cosima carefully walked back to the room, setting her coat on the chair near a small study table. “I’m sorry,” Cosima said, sitting beside her. “It’s just that...” and Cosima nudged Delphine with her elbow. “I’ve slept with straight girls before, back in high school and college, and nothing good ever came out of it…Just a whole bunch of confusion and tears after. I don’t want that for you. You deserve better.” 

Delphine nodded and tried to produce a smile, trying to hold on to the easy conversations and the carefree laughter that permeated since meeting Cosima up until she went to the bathroom. It didn’t work as intended and Cosima was quick to notice. “But, I was serious back at the taqueria...I don’t want this to end. So if you want,” she said, looking at her with kind, gentle eyes, “I can stay? We could just...talk, have tea, sleep. ”

Delphine looked at her, the need to spend more time with Cosima overpowering her hurt at the perceived rejection. “You’re right. We could sleep,” and Delphine carefully slotted herself in the blanket as Cosima put her sandals down by the bed to lie on the other side. Delphine expected awkwardness, but was surprised when Cosima wrapped her arms around her.

“So are you pushing through with Berkeley?” She asked as she stroked Delphine’s arms with her fingers.

“Maybe,” Delphine said, stroking back, “it’ll be the farthest one from Paris,” which made Cosima laugh. They fell asleep to the sound and vibration of each other’s laughter, finding comfort at the budding familiarity between strangers fast becoming something more.


	3. August 6, 2006

Cosima opened her eyes, quickly rooting for her glasses under the pillows. She didn’t need them for her to see that she spent the night in an unfamiliar room next to someone she barely knew. Not that it mattered because she wasn’t interested to get to know her more. Cammie, her classmate in Adaptive Biostat Designs, had been dropping hints her way since graduation. And while she had rebuffed them then – telling herself that she wasn’t really her type - last night at the bar when Cosima saw her, she figured a casual lay was what she needed in preparation for today.

She carefully got up from bed, picking up and wearing articles of clothing hurriedly discarded last night. She didn’t plan on staying the night, but she may have had way too much to drink again. She was almost out the door - all she needed to do was tie the laces of her black ankle booties - when she felt movement on the bed. “ _So close,_ ” she thought as she let out a sigh. She should have tiptoed out of the room and worn her shoes outside.

“You’re leaving?” Cammie sleepily inquired, running her hands through her messy shoulder-length auburn hair.

“Yeah, I kinda have too,” Cosima said, trying her best to tie her laces as quickly as possible. “I have to be somewhere important this morning…”

“We can have breakfast in bed,” and Cammie sat up, not even bothering to cover her exposed breasts with a blanket. “And then you can be off to wherever you need to go,” she said, moving to wrap her arms around Cosima from behind.

“Tempting,” Cosima muttered with an awkward smile, “but no…sorry. I’m helping a friend move in today.”

“What a nice friend you are,” Cammie teased. “I think I wore you out last night though,” and Cammie trailed soft kisses on her neck, “and if you’re lifting boxes today, you should really stay for breakfast to regain your strength,” she breathed out before nibbling Cosima’s ear.

Cosima closed her eyes, trying to look for a way to wiggle out of Cammie’s grasps. Last night was…good, she thought. She craved the release and she got it - twice if someone’s keeping count. But right now, all she really wanted was to be on her way back to her own apartment.

“I’ll eat on my way home,” she chose to say, giving a chaste peck on Cammie’s cheek.

“Another time, then? When I can have you all day and night,” Cammie relented, finally covering herself with a robe hanging at the foot of the bed.

“Uh, sure,” Cosima said, lying with a smile on her face. She allowed herself to be pulled for a deep kiss before walking out of the room. Thankfully, Cammie didn’t seem to have roommates which made leaving her apartment easier. She checked the time on her phone as she quickly walked to a bus stop, figuring out a good excuse just in case Delphine arrives before she does.

\-----

“Don’t worry she isn’t here yet,” Sarah hollered at her from the living room as she ate her toast and drank her coffee. Cosima closed the door, careful to hide her relief from her friend and soon to be ex-roommate. She took off her shoes and her thin black cardigan before heading into her room to change into something more comfortable.

“And I won’t narc on you,” Sarah added in between bites of buttered toast as Cosima sat on the other end of the couch. “Think of it as my last act of loyalty before you fly the coop.”

“It doesn’t matter…And I don’t really care if you tell Delphine where I slept last night.” Cosima snuck a quick sip on Sarah’s black coffee. “How many times do I have to tell that we’re just friends for you to believe me?” She added.

“I don’t know…” and Sarah greedily took her cup of coffee from Cosima’s hand. “How many times do you tell that to yourself for you to actually believe it?” She smirked mid-chew, clearly enjoying ribbing Cosima. “It took you, oh about, 30 seconds to shuck clothes that smelled of whoever it was you fucked. So I say it matters. And make sure they’re at the bottom of the hamper, Cos. Wouldn’t want Delphine catching a whiff when she sleeps in your room tonight.”

Cosima rolled her eyes in faux irritation while making a mental note to toss last night’s clothes in the wash before bedtime. She’d been looking forward to today when she would finally get to spend more than 30 minutes alone with Delphine. While she had been stateside for four months now, the blonde had been busy with summer classes - only managing quick coffee runs when their schedules aligned, much to Cosima’s disappointment. She wanted nothing more but to spend all her free time with Delphine before she finally embarks on her trip after getting her masters and saving enough money.

She may have been disappointed that Delphine seemed to have been swallowed whole by her classes, her lab work, and the library since arriving in Berkeley, but Cosima couldn’t help but be impressed by the blonde’s drive and single-minded focus. Delphine had been vocal about ambitiously planning to finish her Infectious Diseases and Immunity doctorate in less than five years - when most take six years or more to complete it. It’s just a few of the many things she found mesmerizing about the French doctor.

And with her leaving for Thailand in four days, Cosima figured she could kill two birds with one stone – spend as much time with Delphine before she flies off while finding a way for Sarah to keep the Emeryville apartment that had been their home for three years. She floated the idea of rooming with Sarah when she brought Delphine coffee and madeleines in the library a few days ago.

_“I’ve met Sarah,” Delphine whispered from across the table, the smile from Cosima’s surprise caffeine treat written all over her face. “And I don’t think she likes me all that much…The English hate the French after all,” she added before turning her attention back to her books and notes._

_“That’s just Sarah,” Cosima tried to wave off her concern, “she’s a Brit yeah, but she doesn’t like anyone. Tell you what, come over to the apartment this Friday and we’ll sort things out. Bring a bottle of bourbon,” Cosima winked, “that ought to do the trick.”_

While she arranged the Friday dinner to get Sarah and Delphine to bond, the night ended with Cosima getting to know a few more things about Delphine. They talked a lot in the months since they first met, but none of their chats or emails indicated that Delphine was an awesome cook – making filet mignon with béarnaise sauce on the old stove that up until that night only made eggs or heated leftovers. She could hold her drink – a characteristic that Sarah immediately warmed up to as they downed shot after shot of bourbon. She’s a fun drunk too – regaling them with stories of underage drinking back in France and drinking sugarcane rum in Port-Au-Prince.

And amidst drunken guffaws, Delphine took care of her as she threw up the contents of her stomach in the empty plastic bag previously used to carry the ingredients for their meal _. “I’m not too big on the hard alcohol,”_ Cosima remembered saying as an excuse for being a lightweight.

Her memory of what happened after puking was hazy. She remembered Delphine and Sarah carrying her to her room. She remembered being alone in the dark for a bit before Delphine came back with a moist towel. How nice it felt when the warm cloth rubbed on her face. She remembered being stripped off her clothes - the feeling of soft flannel on her skin giving her relief.

_“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” Delphine said which made Cosima scoot to the near-end of the bed._

_“Stay with me, sleep here,” she said, patting the space she made for Delphine._

_At the crack of dawn, Cosima found herself face to face with the blonde, their hands linked between their bodies. She smiled. Delphine was wearing a simple cerulean V-neck shirt which gave her a view of the beauty marks dotted all over her chest. She remembered that night when they almost had sex, how invested she was in tracing those freckles with her lips._

_And at that memory, she turned to face the wall, willing herself to go back to sleep. “We’re just friends,” she heard her mind say. “We’re just friends.”_

Cosima remembered that vividly, the buzz from the alcohol had drifted away as she slept. But come breakfast the next day she denied it as Delphine hurriedly left the apartment citing an early class. That night, she went to a bar she knew Cammie frequented with her friends. The need to let it out - the lust, the longing - became unbearable the minute Delphine gave her an awkward smile before closing the door.

“She’s here, Cos,” Sarah said, standing up from the couch to open the door.

\------ 

“I could get used to this.” Sarah said before taking a huge bite of the beautiful sandwiches that Delphine made for dinner after all the bags and boxes have been carried to her room.

“It’s nothing really,” Delphine said, “a quick meal to thank you for saving me from expensive transition housing.”

“Teeming with foreign students if I may add,” Cosima quipped, remembering the first time she visited Delphine.

_“Can’t you use your hot French countess connections to get you like a nice studio or something?” Cosima joked as she sat beside Delphine on her top bunk, her bunkmate - another foreign student - grumbling below them in her mother tongue. “I’m pretty sure Jean-Barthélémy and Jacqueline wouldn’t mind forking up the dough for it,” she added, intentionally Americanizing her pronunciations._

_“The bunk bed isn’t that bad,” Delphine said, playfully smacking her arm. “And I can’t wait for you to meet my parents. Please say their names the way you just did when you do.”_

_“I think your parents will flip if they meet their daughter’s middle class American lesbian friend.”_

_“That’s kind of the point,”_ _and Cosima tried to not drown in Delphine’s mischievous smile._

“What is this?” Sarah asked, using a finger to scoop the sauce on her plate.

Delphine swallowed before answering. “It’s Croque Monsieur,” and Cosima was surprised when the blonde took another sandwich and placed it on her just-empty plate. “Essentially a ham and cheese sandwich with béchamel sauce,” and she went back to eating her own sandwich.

“The only sauce Sarah knows is hot sauce and mustard,” Cosima joked which thankfully made Delphine laugh.

“Hey I know tartar sauce! But point taken, so,” and Sarah stood up with her second serving and opened a kitchen cupboard to get a reusable plastic container. “I’m going to take my fancy ham and cheese to work.” Cosima felt a bit guilty when Sarah recently took a second job - stacking shelves at a home improvement store on top of being a telemarketer - in preparation for paying the rent without a roommate. But with Delphine coming on board, Sarah seemed to not mind the extra work that yielded extra money.

“Remember what I said, Frenchie,” Sarah said as she wore her black leather jacket, “I don’t do girl talk. I’m no shoulder to cry on but we can drink about whatever that’s bugging you. The spare key is taped under the blue chair outside just in case. And absolutely no fucking on the sofa where we watch TV and where I drink my coffee. You have a room so fuck there.”

“It’s her way of saying ‘welcome to the apartment’,” Cosima said, her mouth full of bread and meat.

“Don’t be like this hooligan, you hear?” Sarah said, grabbing her phone tying her hair. “She had a particularly hard time following that last, very important, rule.” And at that moment, Cosima couldn’t help but wish for a stack of plywood to fall on Sarah later while she’s at work. Sarah knew exactly what Cosima was thinking, judging from the devilish grin she had on before walking out the door.

They quietly ate their meal at first, Cosima stealing glances at Delphine every chance she got. “Has she always been this strict?” Delphine half-jokingly asked, breaking the awkward silence that befell them upon Sarah’s departure.

“Yeah, I guess,” Cosima answered. “Technically I was her first roommate. She used to live with the guy she was seeing then - Vic.” In one of their correspondence, Cosima mentioned how she ended up living with Sarah – how she used to live in her parent’s boat docked in the Berkeley Marina. How her parents retired early so that they could sail to the Gulf of California and help inject new life into marine conservation efforts. How Felix suggested that she room with his foster sister, Sarah, who just got out of a relationship.

“What was he like this Vic?” Delphine asked, grabbing her dirty dish before heading to the kitchen sink.

“I only met him twice years ago,” Cosima answered, following suit as she took the used glasses to join Delphine in washing the dishes. “Shortly after I moved in and one time when Sarah brought me in one of her old haunts.” She grabbed the dish soap from the under-sink cabinet. “Both times he was rude and drunk…Or was it rude then drunk? Anyway, it gave me a small glimpse of what Sarah had to live with, if you catch my drift. Felix never liked him. Are you totally regretting moving in here?” Cosima asked as she started washing the glasses.

“Non,” Delphine said with a shake of her head as she washed the plates. “I was just curious that’s all. I’m happy she got out of that relationship before it got more complicated. Can I ask you something else?” And Cosima held her breath before nodding. “Why did you take my suggestion for your trip?”

The glass Cosima was washing almost slid from her hands at the blonde’s unexpected question. “Honestly, it was something you said in one of your letters,” and Cosima offered an enigmatic smile. It was Delphine who suggested for her to finish her masters and save some money first before travelling to the unknown. “When I asked you what you thought of Haiti, of Port-Au-Prince.”

“I don’t remember what I said specifically,” and Delphine began to wash the pan where she cooked the ham.

“You said something about how unprepared you were…How unmapped your life felt over there when the experience should be bringing you some sliver of clarity.” Cosima said. In truth, she knew word for word what the blonde wrote that made her decide that delaying her trip for one more year may be for the best.

She chose to paraphrase now, not wanting to give Delphine an inkling that she’d been reading and re-reading her letters these past few months. “About how everything you were experiencing was heightened by the limits that constricted them. It scared me a bit if I’m really being honest. It made me ask myself if I’m ready for that kind of...disappointment I guess is the word for it. So I got my degree first, worked at the lab and tutored undergrads. At least if I end up disappointed about my trip, I have my degree to keep me warm.” Cosima tried to end her monologue with a joke and hopeful smile. It didn’t work as Delphine looked gutted while washing the pan.

“Désillusion,” she said with a sad smile, “disillusionment is the word for it, I think. Don’t get me wrong, mon amie,” and Delphine grabbed a kitchen cloth to wipe clean, wet dishes. “I loved my time in MSF. I loved the pace, the improvisation, the mission. Sometimes, in the quiet of a classroom, I even miss it now. But the love always came with the feeling of being so dispensable. I was a shiny, new salve when I reported for duty. By the middle of it, I felt like a re-used band-aid being placed over and over again on a gunshot wound…”

Cosima berated herself for choosing the wrong time to be honest, remembering a particular letter where the blonde told her about the teenage mother she lost in childbirth. How giving birth when your body had yet to fully develop resulted to a trauma case, to a bleed she couldn’t stop; How by the end of it, Delphine had ran out of lap pads and clean gauzes that she had to use her own shirt to try to stop the gush of blood; How two hours after the mother died, her child followed suit.

“But I’m sorry I scared you from going on your trip,” Delphine added, beating Cosima to an apology with a more genuine smile before she headed back to the sofa. “You have no reason to be afraid though.”

Cosima followed Delphine to the sofa and took a seat, facing the blonde who’s leaning on the armrest, her long legs slightly stretched on the fabric. “Why is that?”

“Because with disillusionment came clarity…Well, not clarity, but a new way towards that. Maybe it’s just an illusion of clarity. See, I got to Haiti and a lot of things happened – good, bad, and things that were so mundane that I don’t remember them well now. But by the end of it, I realized that as corny as it sounds, I just want to help people. And I think that doctors and scientists can still change the world, help save lives, eradicate diseases. It’s just that after MSF, I realized how small and ill-equipped I am in facing the problem head on, so I’m here now - studying so I can try to cut the problem from the source. So don’t be afraid, Cosima,” and Delphine reached out to hold her hand, “because whatever you find or do not find in your trip, I am sure you will get back on your feet, cheekily treading a new path, a new adventure. And if you can’t get back on your own two feet…well, you know where I live. I will help.”

It baffled Cosima how a fully-clothed Delphine - with hair disheveled from a day of carrying boxes and with her witty words gleaming of intelligence and experience – was a thousand times more arousing than the feel of Cammie’s or any other girl’s bare breasts on her back. The pull of kissing the blonde was too strong and she found herself holding on tighter to Delphine’s hand.

She wanted nothing more but to close the gap between them, to start something that could easily turn serious. But was this something she really wanted to dive into with a months-long trip coming up in a few days? Was it something Delphine wanted to try out given how focused she was on her newfound sense of clarity? Is Delphine even gay? And if tonight they did end up taking care of whatever unsettled sexual tension they have, could she promise not to mess it up? Would they do it on this couch where Sarah watches TV and drinks her coffee? What’s stopping her from hooking up with another Cammie if the blonde became too invested, too busy with her studies? And if she does mess up – and she’s sure she would - would Delphine even take her back, forgive her? Would they ever have conversations about nothing and everything after that?

The questions and doubts eroded whatever courage Cosima had. She went against her instincts to get close to Delphine by getting up from the couch to walk to the fridge. Cosima felt Delphine’s eyes on her in the short walk from the living room to the adjacent kitchen. She took out a pint of vanilla ice cream and two cans of root beer, pouring it into two newly-cleaned glasses before putting healthy scoops of ice cream on top.

She looked up from the task of arranging their drinks and saw Delphine watching her intently. “Is that what I think it is?” Delphine asked when she caught her looking. She didn’t answer, not trusting herself to keep whatever feelings she’s harboring for the blonde to herself. Instead, she walked back to the sofa and handed her a glass.

“You remembered,” and in Cosima’s ears, Delphine’s voice had a hint of sadness, even of disappointment. She took the glass, but not before thanking Cosima for the treat.

“Happy National Root Beer Float Day,” Cosima said, raising her glass awkwardly. “And cheers to you – to your new life, your new apartment, and the killer grades I’m sure you’re going to get.” She groaned internally at her lame excuse for a cop-out.

“À la tienne, Étienne…ehm, santé,” Delphine said with a tight-lipped smile. The blonde was looking at her straight in the eye as their glasses clinked together and Cosima shook her head, trying to not be too curious, too fascinated by mundane things like Delphine’s insistence on maintaining eye-to-eye contact for something as simple as a toast. 

“I know you don’t like root beer yet,” Cosima said to make herself stop from drowning in hazel, puppy dog eyes, “so I added extra scoops of ice cream on yours.” Her words were enough to turn Delphine’s half-frown into a smile, which made her heart skip a beat. Cosima tried to convince herself, as they exchanged smiles in between sips, that this would have to do for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I have so far and barring any complications, I plan to update every two weeks at most. Thank you for reading and hit up the comments section if you're up for a chat. Take care always and see you soon! :D


	4. August 6, 2007

_“FUCKING FINALLY, FRENCHIE!!!”_

The name that’s splashed on the screen was the only reason why Delphine picked up in the middle of writing lab notes that needed to be ready by the end of the day. Sarah was calling and it must be an emergency - after all, she swore off making or taking calls after spending more than two years of her life selling timeshare over the phone. Living with Sarah was surprisingly easy, especially when she resigned from her day job to work full-time at the home improvement store which made her less cranky. “ _It pays better,_ ” she remembered Sarah’s reason, “ _and I don’t have to spend eight hours with 60-year-olds cussing me from here to Sunday because I interrupted their busy schedule of watching daytime soaps._ ”

“What is it, Sarah? Is the house on fire? Is Felix insisting on drying hemp in the backyard again?” Delphine hushed, trying to stay quiet inside the lab.

_“Nah, it’s not that. The bloody fridge broke so we don’t have ice and I think most of your special meats and cheeses have gone rotten. I saved what I could,”_ Sarah said and Delphine could hear sounds of rummaging in the background. _“So I’m getting pizzas and chips for the party later. You buy the ice, that okay?”_

Her new work schedule resulted in their more functional co-existence with Sarah making dinner before leaving for work, and with Delphine cooking breakfast before heading to University Hall for classes. With Sarah having Mondays off and she having no classes on Tuesdays and Sundays, their socialization schedules had also synced. Delphine no longer felt the need to hole up in the library on Fridays or Saturdays when Sarah usually brings home a date or when Felix uses the house to throw thank you parties for his clientele.

“Okay, how much ice do I get?” Delphine asked, looking through a microscope to double check the figures on her notes.

_“As much as you can, I guess. It’s gonna be a packed house and Cosima’s coming,”_ and Delphine dropped her pen on the metal lab table.

“I didn’t know she’s back,” she said, leaning on the uncomfortable swivel office chair.

“ _Oh shit, yeah, she was planning on surprising you or something. Totally forgot, got consumed by the fridge problem. Just act surprised when she shows up later, yeah?_ ”

“Are you here for my research or is that getting in the way of your very important phone call?” And at the sound of a low, clearly irritated voice, Delphine immediately hung up and stowed the phone in the pocket of her lab coat. She didn’t expect anybody to check up on her with more than an hour to go before her lab work ended.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Nealon,” she apologized and proceeded to get back to her notes. While she did very well in her first lab rotation with Dr. Susan Duncan, her new lab assignment was currently kicking her ass. It’s not because of the lab research topic - on the contrary Nealon’s extensive speciation studies and his direct laboratory selection experiments sparked her interests in Evolutionary Biology. It’s just that a few weeks into her new lab assignment and Nealon already seemed hell-bent on making her life a living hell, going over lab notes with a fine-tooth comb and grilling her for the smallest of grammatical mistakes.

“I’m beginning to think that either Dr. Duncan is trying to sabotage my research or she made an error in judgment when she recommended you,” he said over her shoulder - his hands on his waist to remind her who held all the power in this lab. She knew that Nealon was very selective, usually refusing to open his research lab to any grad student. But she busted her ass for Duncan’s research on innate immunity and she was so impressed that she put in a good word for her to get the laboratory rotation nobody in her PhD program gets.

Delphine tried not to look up from her work, but it would be rude to answer his condescension without looking at him – at his eternally-dissatisfied wrinkled face, at his sharp, scrutinizing green eyes. “There is no mistake, Dr. Nealon,” she said, summoning her iciest tone of voice before returning to write her observations on his latest theoretical population genetic model.

“There is no room,” Nealon replied, matching ice with ice, “for mistakes and disappointments in my lab.” He walked out then, but not without giving Delphine an annoyed glare as he removed his lab coat and hung it on a rack.

Alone again, she sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. “Eight weeks,” she murmured to the empty lab, she only needed to survive eight more weeks of lab work with Nealon and she could have her pick of laboratory rotations. Her gaze switched from the laboratory report to the pages of her notebook where a postcard that she'd been using as a bookmark jutted out. She had looked at the card so many times that she can describe it in her sleep - the colorful backdrop of Indian architecture depicting a regal elephant with a howdah carriage being ridden by two men in robes. A stylized “India” text splashed above the sun and domes against a pink shaded sky. She laughed the first time she read the text that came with the card.

_Do not ride the trains. Ride this instead – it’s surprisingly smoother and there’s more space!_

_Miss you, Countess. Wish you’re here with me,_

_C_

She gave the card one more look before writing her notes and typing her lab report. It was the last card she received from Cosima before she cut her trip short to get back to San Francisco - something about her parents docking in the Marina and her father being adamant for her to join them on a two-month summer sailing of the Pacific. Cosima asked for her to come meet her parents over dinner a day after showing up in the apartment unannounced. Delphine obliged of course, even if she didn’t know what to expect when she showed up to the Niehaus’ boat with a bottle of wine.

She wasn’t surprised that Cosima was close with her father, Gene. “ _He’s just very supportive and kind, very loving,_ ” she remembered Cosima saying. A slight feeling of jealousy bloomed in her chest when she saw them interact in person – at how Gene seemed so enthralled by Cosima’s stories about her trip, at the brunette’s good-natured ribbing about Gene's premature hair loss. But what surprised Delphine that night was the resemblance of Cosima and her mother’s relationship to that of her and her own mother. The backhanded remarks about Cosima taking time off from her studies and about how much respect she got from her professors given her choice of hairdo were not lost on her, no matter how delicious the seafood dinner was.

“ _I have first-hand experience with disappointed mothers,_ ” she told Cosima on the deck, hoping she would open up about it.

“ _We should form a club then,_ ” was all Cosima said, reaching out to hold her hand. She didn’t get how a marine zoologist like Sally could be disappointed with a daughter that has advanced degrees in Biology. 

She typed the lab report, reading it three more times before printing it and setting it beside the updated lab notebook. Unlike Duncan who gave her free rein in her lab, Nealon’s a lab dictator - insisting on doing things his way which left little room for innovation, and requiring not only both soft and hard copies of notes but also a systematic end-of-day presentation of everything she jotted down, even if there weren’t significant changes from the previous day. Sitting in the lab now, Delphine couldn’t believe that only three weeks ago she was bursting with excitement for this term – at the lab rotation that made her peers envious, and at the prospect of Cosima going back to school to pick up where she left off academically.

But the dreadlocked brunette’s two-month sailing trip had turned to three months. Delphine hadn’t heard from her for a month - apart from short text messages telling her that Gene asked for another month out at sea, that she’d enroll next term, that she missed her, and that she had to tell her something important when she gets back.

As Delphine waited for Nealon to return, she wondered what Cosima needed to say to her – if it was the same as what she’d been meaning to tell Cosima for quite a while now. The months of postcards, long emails with pictures of what she’d been up to (like getting a tattoo in Thailand - a nautilus near her right wrist), and the occasional texts telling her she arrived safely in whatever country she landed on made her realize that as much as she loved having Cosima as a friend, she wanted more. It took dating someone else for her to realize that.

“ _You’re home early,_ ” _Sarah said, her eyes glued to the TV. “I thought you had no class tomorrow.”_

_“Yes, well …” And Delphine tossed her keys in the key basket before plopping down on the other end of the couch. “It’s just not gonna work.”_

_“That bad huh?” Sarah muted the TV and grabbed a bottle of beer for her roommate from the cooler beside her on the floor. “Funny, I thought you and Steve we’re hitting it off.”_

_“I thought so too.” Delphine drank her beer, contemplating how she’s going to explain things to her roommate. She set her up with Steve who’s taking a break from law school by working at the store with Sarah. There was an easy attraction between them. He’s witty, obviously intelligent, and all kinds of handsome - chiseled jaw, a just-right chin dimple, wavy black hair that goes in contrast with alabaster skin, and bushy eyebrows that made his green piercing eyes magnetic. He was gentle in bed and she had a good time, although in the morning after as she got up from her own bed to hurry for class, she asked herself if sex with Steve was great because it was great or because it had been a small eternity since she’d last had sex. They’ve been on five dates and she was willing to find out which is which when he invited her up to his apartment after dinner, but –_

_“Did he force himself on you? Was he a dick in any way? Because if he was I’m going to shit-kick him so hard -”_

_“Non, it wasn’t that,” and Delphine looked at Sarah. “It was great until he and I were in his apartment and he was offering me something to drink. I asked for a root beer float and he didn’t have it. And it hit me then, I want a root beer float. It’s what I want, not Steve. So I said goodbye and went home.”_

_“Wha’?” Sarah was lost in the conversation. “You’re telling me you broke up with him because of a soda pop? Am I missing something?”_

_Delphine smiled and got up from the couch to head to her room. “Rule number 1, Sarah,” she said when she reached her bedroom door, “you don’t do girl talk.” Entering her room, she could hear Sarah smirk as she unmuted the TV._

“Are you ready to present, Ms. Cormier?” Nealon asked, facing the door as he re-wore his coat before proceeding to open the lab notebook and read today’s report. 

“Yes, Dr. Nealon,” and Delphine immediately pulled out the initial samples and the several-generations-later samples of the Drosophila pseudoobscura fruit flies before she began to report today’s findings and changes.

\-----

“FUCKING FINALLY, FRENCHIE!!!”

“You know, that’s the second time that you said that to me today,” Delphine shouted, looking at Sarah standing atop the stairs that leads to their front door. “So are you going to just stand there or are you going to help me?” 

“Don’t listen to her - your timing is just perfect, love,” a slender, stylish man with jet black hair in tight leather pants, red boots, and a white polo shirt said. It was Felix, showing up with wheeled picnic coolers as he walked to open her car’s rear door.

”Thank you, Felix,” and they started loading the coolers with ice. “Sorry I’m late for your party.” Delphine thought she was making good time even with the exhaustive presentation to Nealon, but he insisted on going over the data and samples again and again before asking her to give him a complete rundown of what she’s going to do the next time she reports to the lab. By the time she got out of the building to head towards her car, the sun had already completely disappeared.

“As long as there’s still ice,” and Felix swung the car door, “you’re never late to a party.” The door closed but not without a rusty creak from the hinges. “You really couldn’t afford anything other than this old banger?”

“I like this old banger,” Delphine said, trying out the British slang and giving the car a pat on its back, “it gets me from point A to B just fine.” In truth, the old 1989 Suzuki Sidekick was all she could afford with her stipend after rent, utilities, living expenses, books, and school needs. It’s boxy, hummed like it had a rumbling diesel engine, and its age showed in every nook and cranny: rusts on the metal panel that held the backseat; the missing “N” in the automatic shifter; a broken knob for an unknown feature beside the car’s cigarette lighter socket; seats that she washed, dried, and vacuumed all day for it to look hygienic; and a car radio that only played songs from the cassette tape stuck in it – the Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me album by The Cure. 

Still, it’s the first item she bought completely with her own money. Miraculously, it only had over 95,000 miles under its belt, and Sarah’s mechanic friend who used to live in the apartment complex before moving to Cleveland said over the phone that it’s a model that’s fairly cheap and easy to maintain. Having it gave Delphine the opportunity to be more in control of her time – no longer was she a slave to the BART, and to bus and shuttle schedules, which meant extra minutes of sleep and more flexible hours to spend in the library or in class. In her eyes, the blue-green car would always be more than just a piece of slightly rusty metal on wheels.

“He’s just being nice because he needs something from yah,” Sarah said before making her way back inside the house to get to the backyard where Felix’s party was happening.

“Sod off!” He shouted, “I’m nice to her because she’s nice…and also because I need a favor,” Felix added with a sly smile, waiting for Delphine to get her stuff from the front seat before wheeling the coolers to the backyard. “And no, I don’t need you for anything illegal that can fuck up your student visa.” Felix had a good laugh when Cosima first introduced him to her – at the story of how the brunette thought that she’s his special weed courier.

“As long as it’s not a loan or anything that can kick me out of this country, I may be able to help.” Delphine slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed one of the coolers.

“You know I’m painting this collection of portraits, right?” Felix began to say. She may have voiced it once or twice before, but Delphine had always admired Felix’s artistic talents. The fact that he’s self-taught and did not have plans to get any sort of formal art school training only made her respect his craft more. _“I’d learn more by actually painting than going to some stuffy art school,”_ he said to her while she watched him paint a portrait of Sarah – a re-imagining of her roommate as a housewife with bangs.

“You want me to help you find a gallery?” She asked. She did know someone - an old friend from lycée who does publicity work for French art museums. And because Delphine genuinely liked Felix’s work, she wouldn’t hesitate recommending him.

“That’s very sweet and forward-thinking of you, Frenchie, and I kinda like that you think I can see this entire collection through. I’ll keep your offer in mind, of course. But right now, I’m short of a model. That’s what I need. So will you pose for me?” Felix grabbed Delphine a beer from a cooler that used to have ice but now has nothing but a few beer bottles and lukewarm water.

“But your collection is about the many faces and facades of Sarah,” Delphine said, taking the beer and twisting it open. “Where do I fit in the picture?”

“Everybody - ice is here!” Felix announced to around 40 or so people in their shared backyard before turning his attention back to her. “I just finished Sarah’s collection and I thought that I’d need another subject to show some contrast. It’s like a yin and yang kind of vision – the many faces of the hooligan from Britain as compared to the many faces of the elegant Frenchwoman. To show the similarities amidst the differences, or the differences being the similarities, or the similarities being the differences. You get what I’m saying?”

Delphine grinned as she listened to Felix while taking swigs of her beer. “Are you sure you’re not some art student from Berkeley? Because with the way you speak, I think you’d fit right in.”

“Is that a yes, then? It’ll be a once a month thing and I’m not planning on doing nudes. Also I can’t pay you anything so I’ll give you the same deal I gave Sarah - a surprise free portrait that you can frame if you fancied it or burn in a dumpster if you loathed it. Either way it’s a win-win if you ask me.”

“Can I think about it?” Delphine said, beginning to look around the yard, her eyes searching for any sign of Cosima.

“Sure,” and Felix smiled, convinced that he’d convinced Delphine. “Do let me know, yeah? We can schedule it anytime it works for you.” And with a touch of her shoulder, Felix left to socialize with guests.

Alone with nobody talking to her, Delphine was able to scan her surroundings and the people more. Apart from Sarah, Felix, and Cosima, there were only a handful of party guests that she knew. One of them was their neighbor, Doug, who’s technically the first person she met when she arrived at the front yard of the apartment years ago. He was coming towards her with a red cup.

“Hey Delphine, nice to see you take a break from the books,” Doug said as he grabbed some ice for his drink. A few months after she had moved in, she learned that Doug also happened to be one of Felix’s long-standing clients. He’s a handyman working around the Bay Area and came to know Felix when he repaired his pipes. He ended up fixing the leaks in his studio loft for free in exchange for a hefty supply of weed. “ _My stash ain’t running low yet,_ ” he said to her the first time they talked when he offered to help her change the Sidekick’s oil and filter. “ _So I figured Felix sent one of his friends to drop off Cosima’s supplies,_ ” which made Delphine wonder what it was about her that day that gave both Doug and Cosima the impression that she’s packing marijuana bricks in her coat.

“Hi Doug,” she said with a smile. She should be asking him if he can repair their broken fridge but she went in a different direction instead. “Have you seen Cosima around?”

Doug made a satisfied face as he gulped his drink. “Yeah she’s here somewhere…I was just talking to her and that tart she came with half an hour ago. Anyway, I’ll see you when I see you.”

_“_ Tart,” Delphine said to herself quietly as Doug left, trying to understand beyond the word’s denotation as a sweet and delicate pastry. Her grasp of the English language was good, but her vocabulary for slang and pop culture references still needed some work. Even so, she knew exactly what Doug meant. Cosima’s here, fresh from her travels, and she brought someone with her. Was this the important thing she needed to talk to her about?

Delphine was convincing herself as she walked and scoured the backyard that it was pure curiosity: the need to put a face on Cosima’s _tart_. Never mind her frantically beating heart or the redness she could feel forming on her ears. She reached the far end of the space - where worn garden gnomes and wicker chairs were placed by previous renters - caught between a feeling of relief and unease at her friend’s absence.

She had decided to get inside the house, to go to her room, put down her things and change into a new shirt before looking for Cosima when she saw it. Behind a group of people who Delphine recognized as Felix’s artist friends, there were dreadlocks, and as her eyes took in the sight, she saw Cosima wrapping her arms around another figure before coming in for what looked like an all-consuming kiss. The tart may be the same height as her friend from where she’s standing, but she did not seem delicate at all. She had high cheekbones and Asian features; slightly unkempt bobcut hair with bangs and angry streaks of blonde; slim-fitting jeans and a sleeveless gray shirt; hands that roamed all over Cosima’s backside that pulled their bodies closer; a bevy of necklaces adorning a neck that was now being consumed by a hungry tongue.

“Delphine!!!” And she was thankful to whoever it was that said her name for snatching her attention away from Cosima and the not-tart tart. Her stare moved to the top of the stairs leading to their apartment’s back entrance. Conveniently, the person that called her name was someone she knew quite well, not just an acquaintance she’d have a hard time making small talk with.

“Hi Steve,” she said halfway through the stairs as she met him on the back porch. And before he could put in a word or a question about why she suddenly stopped calling a month ago, Delphine captured his mouth in a searing kiss which Steve quickly reciprocated. “Come,” she whispered in his ear when she knew she got his full attention and Delphine took his hand to lead him inside the house so that they could go to her room. Unbeknownst to her, she wasn’t the only one who heard Steve - Cosima had paused to watch their reunion from where she stood on the yard.

She took matters into her own hands the minute she slammed the door, not wanting gentleness for this encounter as she tossed her things on the bed before unbuckling Steve’s belt and pulling down his jeans and boxers. He seemed to have gotten the memo, hurriedly fishing for a condom in his light jacket. Delphine pulled down her own pants and underwear, seeing that she didn’t have to do anything more for Steve to get things started. 

Her back was up against the door, her legs entwined around his waist, and Delphine was sure that whoever would walk past her room would recognize the thuds and moans. Steve palmed her breasts, panted heavily in between thrusts, grunted his release, and had a satisfied look on his face when he finished.

She didn’t know what she needed to do or say next to get him out of her room until someone thankfully banged at her door.

“Frenchie!!! I hate to interrupt! But we need more ice!”

“I have to go,” Delphine said, hiking up her clothes and grabbing her messenger bag from the bed.

“Okay,” Steve said, giving Delphine a gentle kiss on the lips. She held onto the sensation of her shallow orgasm so she could kiss him back. “Can you just call me so I can take you out on a proper date again?” Delphine gave him an empty nod and the best smile she could produce under the circumstances before leaving him in her room. 

She couldn’t get out fast enough, unlocking her car remotely as she went down the front stairs wanting nothing more but a moment alone to ruminate, maybe even wallow. Delphine fastened her seatbelt and locked the car, intending to get out of the apartment quickly. But she found her hands tightly clutching the steering wheel instead of turning the ignition. “Je n’en ai rien à branler!” She muttered over and over again in varying degrees of volume. She laid her forehead on the top of her hands, wanting to disappear but seemingly unable to make any move that would lead to that. 

She was startled when somebody knocked on the window of the passenger seat. Even so, Delphine turned her head to see who it was. She was expecting a snarky Sarah asking her what’s with the hold up. She didn’t expect dreadlocks and sad, bespectacled eyes looking at her through the window, asking to be let in. 

Delphine let out a sigh before unlocking the car.

“Drive,” Cosima instructed with a shudder in her voice, her eyes looking straight out front. Delphine couldn’t quite figure out the dreadlocked brunette’s emotional headspace so she did as she was told - she started the car and put it into gear.

The nearest 7-Eleven is 10 minutes away by foot, but apart from wanting the quickest way out of the apartment, Delphine took the car because she didn’t want to lug around packs of tube ice. It took no less than five minutes for them to get there, with Delphine turning towards an open parking lot. She parked facing the wall, a _No Loitering and No Idling_ sign was readable even when she turned off her headlights.

“I was going to surprise you tonight. I…just got back from the boat two days ago.” Cosima still had her seatbelt on and Delphine figured that she wanted to talk.

“I was surprised,” she said, trying to sound normal and casual. “It’s really good to see you though,” and even with what she saw at the yard, Delphine meant it, which made it easy for her to give Cosima a genuine smile. “So…”

“So…” and Cosima bobbed her head as if she’s hearing imaginary music. “Uhm, I met Emi in Cambodia. We ate happy pizzas together and we roomed in a backpacker’s lodge for a month. She goes to Berkeley too, a Math major. We kinda bumped into each other the day after we had dinner with my folks and I kinda asked her to come and sail with us.”

“She’s your girlfriend?” Delphine asked, swallowing the bile of jealousy rising up in her throat. That night on the deck, Cosima practically begged her to come join them on their boat trip. But she had to say no with Nealon requiring her to start working in his lab three weeks before the start of the term. She thought now as her question hung in the air if she should have just said yes.

“Yeah, you can say that,” Cosima fidgeted in her seat before unbuckling her seatbelt.

“That’s good. Nice,” she said, pulling the key out of the ignition, doing anything to stop herself from thinking about what Cosima and Emi were doing in those three months out at sea. “I’m happy for you, mon amie,” the term of endearment suddenly sounded forced in Delphine’s ears. “So now that you said the important thing you wanted to say, we can go buy some ice, non?” Delphine was unfastening her seatbelt when Cosima’s hand stopped her.

“That’s not…That’s not what I was going to say tonight,” Cosima said, quickly yanking her hands away.

“What is it?” Delphine asked, turning to face Cosima. She was curious and slightly concerned at the inexplicable sorrow in the American’s eyes.

“Pops…uhm, Gene is sick,” Cosima said, her lips suddenly trembling in fear. “The doctors found growths in his lungs around six, five months ago. They told me the night of the dinner right after you left that he began coughing up blood while I was in Vietnam.” The words just flowed out of Cosima’s lips, as if she’d been holding on to them and couldn’t wait to let them out. “I knew something was up at dinner when I saw oxygen tanks in the boat. It’s really bad, Del…I think he doesn’t have long…A year at most, but possibly less.”

“Is it...” And Delphine struggled to put her doctor hat on at the sight of a distraught Cosima, “Wegener's granulomatosis? Churg-Strauss syndrome?”

“No,” Cosima shook her head, “the doctors said there were only a few recorded cases of these - around 300 or less in the whole world.”

“So it has to be auto-immune,” Delphine supplied, “but unclassified. I take it that immunosuppressants have limited effect?”

Cosima nodded in surrender, wiping tears from her eyes and cheeks. “I haven’t told anyone – not even Emi. I wanted to tell you because you’re -” 

“A junior doctor? An Immunology grad student?” Delphine said with an alarmed voice, suddenly feeling helpless for her friend. If only she could help out Cosima as easily as she could have helped Felix…

“No, because you’re my…friend,” and Delphine watched Cosima sigh, “the closest thing I have to a best friend these days. And if I’m being honest…” For a minute, she waited for Cosima to finish her sentence, but that was forgotten when Delphine saw Cosima sob - her body shaking as she cried. She did the only thing she could think of: gather her in her arms and hold her, hoping the feel of another soul would be enough for Cosima’s cries to subside. Pretty soon, she found herself sobbing and crying too, her tears soaking the brunette’s dreadlocks.

“I’m sorry,” Cosima said, moving out of her embrace so they could be face to face. “I’m sorry for unloading all this crap on you. I know you have a lot on your plate but I just,” and Cosima gently cupped Delphine’s face – a move that made her shudder in ways that her quickie with Steve didn’t. “Don’t cry, Delphine…What’s wrong?”

“You just told me your father is dying, Cosima, what did you expect?” Delphine said, sniffling. “And I’m just feeling really horrible because I should have been on that boat with you so I could have been there when you needed me. And maybe then...”

She took a breath to stop the deluge of words and emotions that could have followed that sentence. She’s too late, someone else was in the picture, and they had far bigger problems to deal with now. “Lab with Nealon is just not worth it…” Delphine chose to say instead. It was the last thing she thought before Cosima enveloped her in a hug.

They remained in each other’s tight embrace as they cried, sniffled, and shuddered before growing silent. Cosima was stroking her hair, bringing her a sense of comfort she didn’t know she was missing. She tried reciprocating the feeling by coasting her lips on the brunette’s clothed shoulder which elicited a muted moan from the American. She felt Cosima’s hands roaming from the top of her back to somewhere near her hips. In the privacy of the Sidekick, Delphine wanted to look at Cosima, to wonder what she wanted, where these innocent, friendly touches were headed, and maybe to just go there – consequences and complications be damned.

“You can’t park here,” and Delphine swiftly turned around and was almost shocked at the tall security guard right outside the car, tapping on her window with the base of his flashlight.

“We’re just buying ice,” Delphine said, pointing to the convenience store.

“Well get to it because you’ve been parked here for 30 minutes and this facility is for residents only,” he angrily explained, flashing a light on the sign that read “ _Parking for Oakville Residents_.”

“Right,” Cosima said, “sorry. Give us 10 minutes dude and we’ll be outta here.” He looked at them warily as they quickly emerged from the car.

“You know what we need,” Cosima said, walking the short distance from car to store and slinking her hand around Delphine’s arm. 

“What?” Delphine asked, surprised by the gesture and the slightest hint of cheeriness in the brunette’s voice. She immediately went to the chest freezer to grab packs of ice.

“We need a week to just get away from it all. A week where you’re not Delphine - the harangued PhD student, and when I’m not Cosima – the soon to be fatherless mess,” Cosima said as she walked toward the beverage aisles and filled two big cups with root beer float Slurpee.

“Are you saying we should go on vacation?” Delphine said with furrowed brows and a slightly shocked smirk as she paid for the ice.

“You’re damn right, Countess.” Cosima tried her best to smile as she handed Delphine her drink before noisily sipping on her own and laughing about her brain freeze. And as they made their way back to the car with ice in their hands, Delphine allowed the familiar taste and the new texture of her chosen drink to give her some comfort. She offered Cosima a tight-lipped smile when the brunette’s hand made its way to her hand that’s resting on the gear shift, holding onto each other the entire drive back to the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watching the U.S. Open in the background proved to be good for writing this story :) so here's an early update. I would like to thank you for giving this story a look, a chance, and for leaving kudos and comments. It means a lot to me. Please let me know what you like and don't like in the comments. Much thanks to Corsan as always and I hope all of you are doing your level-best in coping with the daily challenges of living through a pandemic. :) Take care and see you soon I hope.


	5. August 6, 2008

“Delphine,” Cosima turned to face the blonde sprawled on the other side of the surprisingly comfortable bed, “wake up.”

“Hmm?” Delphine grunted, tightening her hold on the blanket that covered her body. “What time is it? Is it time to go?”

“Nah, nah. It’s early, still early,” Cosima whispered as she lightly twirled the tips of Delphine’s hair. “It just hit me now – in our last day – that we broke all of them.” Propped up on an elbow, Cosima intently watched as the mixture of sleep and laughter played on the blonde’s face. She was grinning as Delphine slowly opened her eyes.

“We did, didn’t we, mon amie?” She said, repositioning herself on the bed, moving closer, “so much for vacation rules.”

\-----

The vacation rules were never by design because there really was no plan for anything apart from having a low-stress, whatever-goes getaway. It was hard to plot a detailed itinerary with everybody busy with work, school, and all the personal things in between. They were just working around the few specifics they had: the destination (Lake Tahoe); how they’ll get there (Delphine’s car); and the dates (first week of August before the fall semester officially starts; Sunday to Wednesday so Sarah would only miss two work days).

And because money’s tight at the Manning-Cormier household - and both refused Cosima’s offer to pay for most of the trip expenses - they’ve all decided that it would be an all-girls camping trip. _“I’ll borrow tents. It’ll be fun and cheap,”_ Sarah said during one of the few times they tried to come up with a plan. Although the absence of indoor plumbing and sleeping on the ground were not Cosima’s idea of a good time, one look into Delphine’s excited eyes at the mention of spiked hot chocolate by the fire swayed her to just go with it. With everything that the blonde had done for her this past year, agreeing to go camping was the least she could do for her.

But the first monkey wrench into their Lake Tahoe vacation was thrown before the trip even started. They were going to camp in South Shore’s Fallen Leaf Lake – three hours away from Berkeley - and agreed to pick up Cosima in Emi’s off-campus apartment at 8:30 a.m. sharp. “ _So even if we get to Berkeley at 9, we’d still be early because you’re always late for everything,_ ” Sarah reasoned. 

With Emi insisting to see her off, Cosima lugged her stuff from the studio ten minutes past nine when the messages she sent earlier to both Sarah and Delphine went unanswered. She was surprised to not see Delphine’s car anywhere, which made Emi ask if the trip was still pushing through 20 minutes into the wait. The only indication that they were still on for Tahoe was when Cosima saw Emi’s face turn from hopeful to sour at seeing Delphine’s car from a short distance, halting to a stop across the street.

“Dude! You’re never late!” Cosima bellowed as she picked up her backpack and crossed the street while Delphine got out of the car.

“I’m sorry,” Delphine said, seemingly stuck to where she’s standing by the driver’s side door. “Sarah isn’t coming.”

“What?!?” Emi asked before Cosima could even react.

“Yeah,” and Delphine’s gaze shifted from Cosima to Emi. “One of her work mates had a family emergency so they’re short-handed at the store. She just found out this morning.”

“So what now?” Emi inquired - her irritation at the sudden change of plans written all over her face. Standing beside Delphine, Cosima tried to hide how annoyed she was about Emi’s shrill voice.

“That’s why I’m here,” and Delphine looked at Cosima. “If you want to cancel, it’s fine.”

Cosima thought about it for a bit. As much as she wanted Sarah to join them, she had already programmed her brain and body for this vacation. She also badly needed to get away while things were not yet crazy and hectic. Closing her eyes, she remembered how excited Delphine was when she told her they were going to make s’mores – how she tried to hide her excitement with a shy smile, only to be betrayed by how wide and happy her eyes looked.

“Let’s roll,” Cosima easily decided, hurriedly walking towards the passenger door to get in the car and shove her bag in the backseat.

“Are you sure?” Delphine asked as she sat on the driver’s seat. “Would Emi be okay that it’s just you and me?”

“Hurry,” Cosima didn’t answer Delphine’s question, “before she joins us.”

They were about to drive off when Emi motioned for them to wait as she crossed the street and walked towards the car. “Holy shit,” Cosima mumbled before she pushed the window down.

“Have a nice camping trip,” Emi cooed, trying to be cheerful as she cupped her face for a kiss that lingered way too long for Cosima’s liking. The meaning of the look she gave Delphine after – pursed lips, narrowed eyes, a small nod of acknowledgment – wasn’t lost on Cosima. She rolled the windows up and gave Emi cheerful waves of goodbye, which made Delphine smirk and shake her head as she pressed her foot on the gas.

“I should be the least of her worries,” Delphine said, wearing her sunglasses. “I can easily name five other girls she should be keeping an eye on.”

“We’re not exclusive,” Cosima reasoned, and it was the truth. She hung out a lot in Emi’s studio but declined her offer to move in, choosing instead to live with her parents who, given Gene’s health, had sold their boat and bought a small bungalow in the Berkeley area. “And I think you’re imagining things – five girls?”

“Sidney Franklin from Epidemiology, Jia Chan from CHS, Clarice something from the Health Science library, Felicia Villanueva from Microbiology, Hilda Herman from IDV who part-times as a barista. And these are just from our department. I know of the girls in San Francisco too – Felix likes to gossip when he’s pissed about you encroaching on his loft.”

“Wow,” and to hide her embarrassment, Cosima chose to tease Delphine. “Someone’s keeping tabs.”

“Believe me, Cosima,” Delphine made an annoyed face while turning left to enter the freeway, “I’d rather not know about your extra-curricular activities. But these women pester me about you in the lab, in class, while I get coffee, while I’m having a cigarette. ‘Have you seen Cosima lately?’, ‘Is Cosima going to the lab today?’, ‘Can you tell Cosima to call me?’ ” Delphine’s fake California accent made Cosima snort. “Clarice even threatened to withhold books unless I tell her where she can find you.” 

“And what did you tell her?”

“I told her you were out of town for a research trip,” Delphine said. “You can thank me later.”

“Then that settles it,” and Cosima turned on the radio and they were treated to the short drum solo intro of Why Can’t I Be You, “Clarice Clowther is out. And Jia Chan is transferring to Irvine so she’s out too. And there was only one girl in San Francisco…that I can remember. So technically there are just four women...”

“I don’t understand you sometimes -” Cosima suspected that Delphine was rolling her eyes as she switched lanes, “all these women when you have a girlfriend. And no, I’m not ehm, slut shaming you. I’m just worried.”

“It’s my way of breaking free from Emi’s Elmyra-like death grip,” Cosima answered. She knew it’s more than that, but it’s the simplest explanation she could give without unpacking all the things she was wishing away and running from. But for now, she couldn’t wait for the face Delphine would make when the reference flies over her head.

“What!?!”

_There it is,_ Cosima thought, _furrowed brows, slightly parted lips, hint of an amused smile on her lips and eyes_. “Elmyra Duff from Tiny Toons,” and she tried not to burst into laughter when Delphine looked even more puzzled. “You know - I’m gonna hug you, and love you, and squeeze you, and never ever let you out of my sight!”

Cosima’s impression only made Delphine laugh. “I still don’t get it.”

“Are cartoons banned in the Cormier Chalet? Elmyra is this girl who’s obsessed with animals and cute things. She suffocates them with love to the point that they just want to run away…”

“So Emi is Elmyra and you are the cute woodland creature?” Delphine said.

“I blame you a bit for my predicament, actually,” she replied, trying for nonchalance. “If only you sailed with us, there would be no Emi.” Cosima grew silent at the thought of what could have been had Delphine just got on the darn boat. 

“We need to establish some rules here,” Delphine suddenly turned serious, breaking the silence and turning off the radio. “I don’t want Emi to ever think there is anything going on between us.”

“O-kay,” Cosima said, easily relenting while trying hard not to think too much about what could go on between them.

“Rule number 1,” Delphine said, tightening her hold on the wheel when a speeding truck passed them by, “separate beds.”

“You mean tents, right?” Cosima said, still trying to wisecrack.

“Ouais, tents,” and Delphine pointed to the roof of the car where the tents and other waterproof camping stuff were tethered and packed.

“Okay, I’m on board,” Cosima agreed. “Rule number 2 – no talk of dying dads and unidentified diseases. This is a vacation and I don’t need to be reminded about it.”

“How’s Gene?” Delphine managed to look at her before quickly re-focusing on the road ahead. “Leekie said the latest treatment is -”

“Rule number 2, Del,” Cosima reminded sternly. “And while we’re at it, let’s not talk about creepy professors, school, and lab experiments. That’s rule number 3.”

“Fine,” Delphine said with a nod. “Rule number 4 – we can never be naked around each other.”

“What? But we’re bound to see each other naked...” And Cosima changed gears when the meaning of her words began to register in her head. “Like, we’re going camping and we’ll probably have to use a public shower at some point.”

“Then put a towel around you,” Delphine shrugged.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” and Cosima rummaged for some chips in the backseat. “I mean, I’ve seen Sarah naked. I’m pretty sure you have too.”

“That’s different,” Delphine replied, turning the radio on again. “We’re roommates, it can’t be avoided. This,” and Delphine waved her free hand back and forth in the space between them, “this can be avoided. And to really avoid it, rule number 5 – weed is okay, but no one is getting completely baked.”

“Now that really doesn’t make sense,” and Cosima tossed the bag of chips back to get her bag and show Delphine the pre-rolled joints she packed in a Ziploc bag. Just then, Delphine’s phone chimed indicating a new email. “Okay, rule number 6 – no replying to emails and lab reports. Better yet…” and Cosima grabbed her phone and Delphine’s phone and turned them off simultaneously. “No phones.”

“Well that should put Elmyra’s mind at ease,” and Delphine laughed. Not a lot of people knew that the blonde has a dry, acerbic sense of humor, and Cosima knew that she’s one of the few privileged enough to see the real Delphine beyond the wall she’d been building around herself as she navigated her way towards getting her degree. The sound of her genuine, unfiltered laughter had always been music to Cosima’s ears, instantly piercing her heart.

\-----

~~Rule Number 3: No talk of school, creepy professors, and lab experiments~~

“That could be Scott you know,” Delphine said as Cosima returned the phone on the dashboard cubby. “We have important cell cultures for the H5N1 vaccine project.”

“I’m sure Scottie will manage,” Cosima replied, turning up the volume of the clunky car stereo to listen to the long and catchy intro of Hey You!!! “How is he, by the way?” She and Scott go way back, becoming fast friends during undergrad because of their shared love for science and tabletop games.

“He misses you,” Delphine replied, taking a pause from humming along with the song. “I think that’s why he keeps me company in the lab even when his shift is over.” Scott’s academic focus was Genetics and Genetic Engineering which was why Delphine’s latest lab project - the idea of creating recombinant DNA-based vaccines using human adenovirus as a vector - was right up his wheelhouse. She baited him to join Delphine’s project, asking him to look after the blonde given the professor she’d been working with for quite a while now. “He keeps trying to teach me how to play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Ooh, D&D! Are you getting the hang of it?” Cosima asked, “ ‘coz if you are, we need to have a game night.”

“Not really,” and Delphine turned up the volume even more as the next song played. “Leekie caught him with the board game in the lab some weeks back, so his teaching methods had been reduced to YouTube videos.”

“Glad some things never change,” Cosima quipped, her voice laced with copious amounts of vitriol. “Leekie is still a killjoy but at least he’s keeping his hands to himself.” Two terms ago, Delphine had requested for a lab rotation with Dr. Aldous Leekie – a pop scientist who was Cosima’s professor in molecular epidemiology a couple of years back. His main research interest is self-directed evolution, and while Cosima always viewed his ideas as nothing but soundbite science, his team’s extensive stem cell research had attracted not only considerable private funding, but also Delphine’s attention - perhaps even her admiration.

“ _We have nothing to lose, Cosima,_ ” she remembered Delphine reasoning when she was convincing her not to study under Leekie, “ _and maybe working with him will help us know more about Gene’s disease._ ” 

On top of all that, Freaky Leekie had a reputation for diddling with beautiful students - with several of Cosima’s former classmates falling prey to his ploy. Cosima could still remember the ravenous look Leekie gave Delphine during that time when she hung out in the lab to keep her company. It was the only push she needed to get Scottie involved in Delphine’s lab work.

“He is keeping his hands to himself, right?” Cosima worriedly asked. “And you know you can tell me if he tries anything.” Delphine bit her lip, which made Cosima nervous. She could never forgive herself if Leekie ever laid a hand on the blonde.

“He offered me a job at Dyad,” Delphine quietly answered, putting the cassette on pause. Leekie’s substantial private funding enabled him to start his own biotech and bioresearch group, the Dyad Institute. And while Dyad was still relatively young – it just opened its first standalone facility in South San Francisco’s Oyster Point - their innovative work in stem cell research and regenerative medicine had been putting them on the scientific map at an astonishing pace. “And I’m planning on accepting it once I’m done with all my class work.” 

“You didn’t exactly answer my question,” Cosima said, unable to hide both her worry and irritation.

“Non,” Delphine said with a slight shake of her head, “I am being careful, mon amie. Trust me. But we have to keep looking at the big picture. Gene is doing better and the treatment is improving his health. Everything else is white noise.” 

\-----

~~Rule Number 2: No talk of dying dads and unidentified diseases~~

The air in the Sidekick filled up with tension as Cosima stared out through the window while Delphine drove. Cosima picked a pretty straightforward route to Tahoe – one where she didn’t need to navigate until they exit Sacramento – so they could catch up with each other more. But Cosima wasn’t in the mood to talk with Delphine’s job offer and thoughts of Leekie hanging heavy on her.

She was surprised when Delphine abandoned their planned route and exited the highway.

“Your stomach has been grumbling since we left Berkeley,” Delphine explained, driving towards Downtown Sacramento. “And if you are pissed,” and she parked the car in front of the first café she found, “it’s not yet too late to drive back. But maybe we should eat first.”

“I’m not pissed,” Cosima opted to deny which earned her an _“Are you kidding me?”_ look from Delphine. “It’s just…the last thing I want is for you to get in trouble because of me. And no, I don’t want to head back - unless you want to.”

Delphine unbuckled her seatbelt and turned off the car. “I want to go to Tahoe with you…And I’m not in trouble, Cosima,” she said, her eyes pleading. “You have to understand that I can’t just be the keeper of your secrets. I have to do something to help you.” She got out of the car and Cosima immediately followed suit.

They were already sitting by a table outside, waiting for their food when Delphine spoke again. “You know, you should really consider telling Emi what’s happening,” and Cosima could only sigh. Several times she had explained to the Frenchwoman why she had no plans of telling Emi about Gene’s health issues - that telling her about Gene would only deepen a relationship that was never meant to be serious in the first place. It would disrupt Cosima’s carefully compartmentalized life, specifically the facet of her life where she could wish away her father’s frequent brushes with death.

“You want to know why I told you and only you?” Cosima asked, going for a different tact. “Because I need someone on my side who would see Dad as more than just live tissue, as more than just a medical mystery. I need someone who sees him as a person. As someone who is not just a patient on a gurney…Who’d see him for who he is – an oceanographer, a husband, my father. That’s why I told you.”

Delphine’s coffee and Cosima’s tea arrived with their salads. “Are you telling me now that I’m only seeing him as a scientific specimen?” Delphine said, obviously hurt and angrily slicing on her plate.

“No, of course not, I was trying to make a point,” and Cosima reached out to stop Delphine from murdering her greens. “You’re the only person I would be okay to be vulnerable with about him.” _About anything really,_ she thought. “And you’ve gone above and beyond for me, for us, in ways that surprised me. I don’t know how to thank you for adding years to his life when his doctors said he only had months.”

Cosima let out a sigh of relief, seeing how her words had softened Delphine’s stance and face for a bit. “You should be thanking Aldous, not me,” she said before taking a bite of her salad.

“So it’s Aldous now?” Cosima bit back, pulling her hand away from Delphine, unable to filter the jealousy from her voice.

“He insists that we call him Aldous outside the lab. Even Scott does it,” Delphine explained. Cosima couldn’t tell whether it was a lie or not. “And no matter what I call him, you know it’s the truth. Dyad is the only one in this part of the States who’s actually working on iPSCs and producing results. And Gene is living proof that at some degree, it works.”

Cosima bitterly nodded because she knew that the science was real. They were doing their own research on Gene’s illness while Delphine finished her lab rotation with Demon Nealon, focusing on the possibility of using pluripotent stem cell therapy for his unidentified lung polyps. When their research hit a snag, Delphine asked for Leekie’s input. He gravitated instantly to the prospect of discovering, studying, and curing an unidentified malady - and to the beautiful blonde serving it to him on a silver platter. She’d been under Leekie’s tutelage since then, hard at work at figuring a way to source compatible pluripotent stem cells for Gene, which proved to be painstakingly daunting even if Dyad was becoming a rock star in the field of bioresearch. And with time running out, Cosima and Delphine proposed to engineer and create Gene’s own pluripotent stem cells.

With no way to source them via a compatible embryo, Delphine researched and studied the possibility of using iPSCs: induced pluripotent stem cells that can be derived directly from adult tissues - directly from Gene - eliminating matching problems altogether. His iPSC therapy was highly experimental, but he wanted to fight so he went for it. “ _If anything,_ ” Cosima remembered her father saying before consenting to his first iPSC treatment, “ _I’d be a beautiful baseline for this procedure._ ” It had been two months since his last therapy and his recent labs and scans showed promising results. It was a band-aid, they knew as much, but so far the expensive and experimental stop-gap measure had stopped Gene from coughing out his lungs.

“Yes, Leekie had the resources, the facilities,” Cosima conceded, “but it was your research that set things in motion. It was you who sat with Dad by his hospital bed when we can’t be there after visiting hours - checking everything, making sure he’s comfortable. Not once did you make me feel that it was a mistake that I told you about him. So excuse me if you’re the hero in my book.”

Cosima noticed the mixture of worry, relief, and affection in Delphine’s eyes. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” the blonde said, reaching out to put her hand on hers – her thumb grazing her hand. She couldn’t help herself from reciprocating the touch. “Let’s not fight anymore, Cosima,” she said, looking at their entwined hands. “I think we’ve earned a break so let’s just…try to enjoy this.” 

\-----

~~Rule Number 6: No phones~~

The cassette stuck in the car radio had looped back to Hey You!!! by the time they were in the middle of the El Dorado Freeway. Their truce resulted in what Cosima looked forward to the most in this trip – spending time with Delphine, making her laugh, and talking her ear off about how the freeway was used by 49ers during the Gold Rush. When the song ended, Cosima made sure to crank up the volume for the next song.

“Why did you do that?” Delphine asked, already bobbing her head to the intro of the next song.

“Because you love this song,” and Cosima enthusiastically drummed in the air as the intro played on.

“I kinda have to,” Delphine said, her fingers tapping to the beat on the steering wheel. “I’m stuck with these 18 songs for as long as I’m driving this car.”

“But you like this one the most,” and Cosima began to lip-sync the lyrics, “I can tell.” She looked at Delphine when the blonde began to sing the next couple of lines. _Show me how you do it and I’ll promise you, I’ll promise that I’ll run away with you, I’ll run away with you._ “See? You hum along with the others, but this one you actually sing.”

“Cosima Niehaus’ keen power of observation strikes again,” Delphine said with a laugh. “But you are right, mon amie, I do love this song the most. It reminds me of a particular childhood memory.”

“Really?” And Cosima lowered the volume. “The young Countess Cormier was listening to The Cure instead of watching cartoons? The plot thickens.” It was a remark that earned Cosima a pinch on her side. “Okay, what’s the story?”

“It wasn’t me who was listening,” Delphine said, “it was Jérémie. When we were younger and our parents had guests, we’d be asked to stay in our rooms and be quiet. He would listen to this song at full volume repeatedly. You can just imagine how our parents reacted. The last time I heard it play through my bedroom wall was…Christmas 2001. That was when he told our parents during the réveillon that he’s quitting law school and moving to Thailand. Papa was so angry, threatening to disown him – which of course he didn’t because nobody would inherit the title if he did. Jérémie has always been the braver one. So now,” and Delphine looked out to her window briefly, “when it plays in my car, I’d like to think that it was me who was playing this song so loud that it pissed our parents off.”

“You’re brave too…” Cosima said, “don’t forget that,” and she tucked a loose blonde curl behind her friend’s ear. It was a tender moment - one that always made Cosima yearn for more.

“So that’s really how you do it…” Delphine whispered, much to Cosima’s confusion. “That’s how you make all those girls fall for you. You pay attention, you observe, you get them to open up, and you’re there to make them feel special when they’re feeling so vulnerable.”

“Did it work?” Cosima asked, licking her lips and tempting fate.

“Non,” Delphine said, exhaling loudly. “That wasn’t what worked for me.”

Cosima was about to press - to figure out what lies beneath the words when without warning, the radio died. Pretty soon, Cosima noticed the dashboard lighting up with red indicator lights as panic gripped Delphine. The old car sputtered and shook, but luckily had enough momentum for them to pull over on the shoulder before it completely died. 

“What the fuck?!?” Cosima said and Delphine immediately turned on her hazard lights and popped open the hood to check what’s wrong.

“It can’t be the battery,” Cosima heard Delphine say when she joined her in inspecting the car’s engine. “I just replaced it a month ago. Merde,” and Delphine walked back inside to grab the toolbox and tighten the battery’s connectors. She then tried to restart the car and after several futile attempts, she blew out a tired breath and made a call.

“Who are you calling?” Cosima asked, peeking back and forth between Delphine and the car’s innards.

“Triple A,” the blonde peeked out from her window, “it’s definitely something we can’t fix so let’s just get it towed.”

Hiding behind the raised hood, Cosima made a quick phone call of her own. She pushed the hood down when she was done and sat on it, waiting for Delphine by admiring the mountain peaks around Tahoe.

“30 minutes,” Delphine said, leaning on the front bumper as she stuffed the phone back in her pocket and lit a cigarette. “I’m sorry,” and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Don’t be,” Cosima reassured, putting an arm around Delphine’s shoulder, “we’re nearly there. See -” and Cosima pointed to one of the surrounding mountain ranges, “that’s Echo Peak. Where we’re going is just behind it. We just have to figure out how to get there. Don’t worry.”

“I forgot to tell you,” Delphine said, ensnaring a lower lip in between teeth, “Leekie also offered you a job at Dyad. He promised us our own lab.”

Cosima scoffed, taking her arm away from Delphine to mirror her crossed arms-over chest stance. “No, thank you, I’m happy where I am now.”

It was a string of coincidences that led Cosima to her current job as a technical consultant for Hypothesis – a buzzy, science-entertainment TV show where a group of scientists debunk myths, legends, and all sorts of old wives’ tales. The production company based in San Francisco was actually consulting with Cosima’s professor, Dr. Ethan Duncan, who delegated the task of answering the show’s queries to her because he’s a bit of a recluse. Cosima charmed the producers when they met to consult on an experiment about what really happens when a person ingests Pop Rocks and Soda, which resulted in a steady, good-paying gig. 

“In fact,” and Cosima leaned towards Delphine, “I’m very happy where I am now because the show is expanding. They’re adding three more hosts and guess who they picked? Me. I’m gonna be on TV, Del! Getting people to talk and think about science! And maybe when I’m this big TV star, I wouldn’t need my powers of observation to reel you in,” she joked. “Don’t worry, I’ll still give you a shot.”

“In your dreams, brat,” Delphine said, blowing out a puff of smoke and playfully slapping her face. “But seriously,” and the blonde’s hand travelled down to linger on Cosima’s arm, “I’m happy for you, proud of you too.”

“Thanks,” returning the pinch on the side that Delphine gave her before the car broke down. “But that would mean less time to hang out. I may file a leave from school to see how this pans out.”

“So what you’re really saying is that this is our first and last vacation together?”And Cosima didn’t expect the hint of sadness that came with Delphine’s question.

“I hope not,” Cosima said, giving Delphine a hopeful smile as they looked to the mountains.

\-----

~~Rule Number 1: Separate tents~~

Cosima wasn’t lying when she said they were near. By her estimate, they would have reached the camp grounds in an hour had the car held on. She waited outside the garage, sneaking glances at the blonde who was talking to the mechanic, before buying them drinks from a vendo machine. She was drinking her soda when Delphine came out of the shop looking a little worse for wear.

“It’s the alternator,” Delphine informed her as she handed Cosima her backpack. “And they need to recharge the battery too. It’s a relatively easy fix, just disconnect and put the new one in -”

“But…” and Cosima opened Delphine’s drink for her.

“They have to get the parts from Reno so it’ll be fixed either tomorrow or the next day. But the shop owner is getting the car we can rent for cheap,” Delphine said after taking a drink. “I’m going to wash up a little,” showing Cosima her slightly greasy hands. “Wait for the car here.”

While Delphine did say that the shop had something they could use for cheap, it still surprised her when the man opened the garage door and rolled out their ride. It was a funny surprise for her - she’s just not sure how Delphine’s going to react.

“This is your cheapest option?” Delphine said from afar as she walked to where the motorcycle was propped.

“Yes ma’am,” the man said, removing his greased up hat. “I’m just charging yah 60 dollars under the table for it. And your license said you can drive motorcycles, so here you are.”

“I can chip in so we can rent a sedan or something,” Cosima said to Delphine, trying to diffuse the situation.

She wasn’t surprised when the Frenchwoman shook her head, letting pride rule her decision. “The car and the gas are my only contributions to this trip, Cosima,” she said to her. “Fine,” she said to the mechanic with a tight smile.

“Just follow the bike paths and you’d be fine,” he said, showing Delphine how to start the scooter before handing the keys, a map, and two half helmets. “See you in three days.”

“Are you going to be pissed if I say that I’m actually hella excited?!?” Cosima said, eyeing the red Honda motorcycle and running her fingers on the emblem that said _Helix._

“No.” Delphine ruffled her own hair, accepting their fate and opening the motorcycle's small compartment. Cosima could hear her mutter in French as Delphine stuffed her bag in and hopped on.

“I know it’s a bit too late to ask…” Cosima said, buckling her backpack around her waist, “but do you really know how to drive one of these? Like,” and she fixed her glasses and dreads after wearing the helmet, “when was the last time you’ve driven one?”

“A while,” Delphine said, shifting her gaze from the bike map she was studying to face her. The scooter’s seat was arranged in such a way where the pillion is slightly higher than the main seat – as if the passenger would be piggy back-riding the driver. As Cosima slotted herself on the motorcycle, she clutched onto Delphine’s shoulders, trying to cast away thoughts of straddling the blonde. “I rode a Vespa in Paris,” Delphine reassured, giving the map one more look before handing it to Cosima. “Are you set?”

Cosima tucked the map in one of her bag’s side pockets. She was ready except for one thing: she didn’t know what to hold to keep from falling off. Sensing her dilemma, Delphine grabbed her left hand. “Here,” and she guided Cosima’s arm around her waist. She then took Cosima’s other hand and placed it on her shoulder. “Hold on tight,” she said with a wink as she released the kickstand and started the bike.

Nothing about riding a motorcycle should surprise Cosima - after all, she had ridden her fair share of scooters and mopeds in Asia, relying on them to get around. But with her arms around Delphine, she was engulfed by an odd but very welcome feeling - as if the tussles and hassles of the day, of the year, disappeared into the ether in every road they passed. She couldn’t explain it even if she tried, settling for searing the experience in her mind instead.

Delphine turned out to be a cautious but very capable motorcycle rider: softly beeping as they passed slower moving cycles and revving up the scooter when the coast is clear, all while maintaining a steady sense of balance. Even when they had to navigate particularly busy portions of the highway, Cosima felt safe, which offered no explanations for her wildly beating heart. Thankfully, her pounding chest - flushed completely on the blonde’s back - was masked by the typical rumblings and vibrations of a motorcycle ride.

When a nice, cool breeze blew in their direction, Cosima knew that Delphine’s scent – a mixture of tobacco, lavender, sea salt, and honey - would make this budding memory harder to disregard and forget. She was so fixated in trying to nail down all the scent’s elements that she almost forgot to tell Delphine about the change in their plans. She gently rubbed the blonde’s shoulder which was enough to grab her attention.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Delphine said after halting to a full stop, not wanting to court any more accidents. “Scared?”

Cosima let out a nervous laugh. She was terrified, but not for the reasons Delphine thinks. “Nah,” and she mustered her cheekiest smile, “you need to make a left here,” grabbing the map from her bag and pointing to their destination. “I already made the call and - ”

“Cosima,” Delphine tried to scold, but Cosima could see the glint of delight in the corners of the Frenchwoman’s eyes.

“Just let me do this for you, please?” The pads of Cosima’s fingers drew circles on Delphine’s waist, trying to convince her to just accept the surprise. “This is your first vacation in the States and I want it to be special. And besides, I don’t want you making multiple trips alone just to get camping gear.”

“Fine,” Delphine huffed, capturing the tickling fingers with her own. “Give me directions.” Cosima would have liked for Delphine’s fingers to remain entwined in hers, but she reluctantly let them go with the Frenchwoman needing both hands to drive.

The lodge Cosima called while Delphine called for towing was on her shortlist of places where they could stay before anybody brought the idea of roughing it out in a tent. “ _It’s still camping_ ,” she argued to Sarah while showing her photos of the accommodations, which made her ex-roommate scoff - telling her that camping did not involve a queen-size bed and electricity inside the tent.

“You need to turn here,” she put her lips as close to Delphine’s ear so she can hear her directions clearly. She licked her lips when she noticed the goose bumps on the blonde’s arm as she made the turn.

Minutes later, the motorcycle entered a fenced off property where Blanca, the woman she spoke with on the phone was waiting. Cosima immediately got off the bike, shook hands with her, thanking her for having room for them on such short notice. Delphine slung her bag as Blanca handed two flashlights and a trail map. “Everything’s been arranged,” she said before excusing herself and returning to a cozy-looking cabin nearby.

“Okay,” and Cosima sheepishly looked at Delphine before looking at the map, “we have to go down that trail then walk around the lake for a bit.”

“Where are we going?” Delphine asked with a playful smile.

“You’ll see,” and Cosima led the way. She could feel Delphine’s eyes on her in the narrow but gentle trail towards the lake. She paused when she reached the shore, taking in the view of the rock formations and tall pine trees that surrounded the edges of the clear, inviting lake where a handful of people – mostly couples and families with their pets - were lounging and taking a dip.

“It’s beautiful,” Delphine beamed beside her. Cosima wordlessly nodded, trying not to stare while Delphine put her hair in a ponytail. “Is this where we’re camping?”

“No,” and Cosima cleared her throat while pointing to a white dome-shaped structure on the other side of the lake. “That’s where we’re staying. Come.”

The hike to the yurt proved to be a bit more challenging than the first trail. It’s perched on the edge of a forested ravine and they had to be careful not to slip on the rocks. Cosima kept a close eye on Delphine, extending a hand on particularly slippery portions of the hike and fluttering on the inside at the feel of Delphine’s hand wrapped around hers. Cosima grappled with the feeling of relief and loss once they reached the yurt that would be their home for the next few days. She put down her bag on the picnic table while Delphine sat on the wooden lawn chair.

“Will you watch the sunset with me later?” She heard Delphine say as she took in the vista of the beautiful lake and looming peaks.

“Yeah,” and Cosima took the chair beside Delphine, “that would be great.” 

\-----

~~Rule Number 5: No one is getting completely baked~~

“How was your nap?” Cosima asked as she carefully placed two steaks on the grill. After spending an entire day swimming and kayaking in the lake, they decided to change it up and go for a hike in nearby Taylor Creek loop. It was a moderate hike - barely four miles and mostly flat - but by the time they got back on the yurt, a spent Delphine took a quick shower and excused herself for a lie-down. 

“Good,” Delphine said, “I didn’t know I was that out of shape,” and she gingerly sat by the dining table as she massaged her thighs and legs. “You need help?”

Cosima laughed. “I may not know the difference between béarnaise and béchamel, but I do know how to start a fire and grill meat. Just take a load off,” she said as the meat sizzled. “You like it medium-well, right?”

“Oui,” Delphine gratefully answered. “What did you do while I was asleep?”

“I chilled in the hammock and read a book,” Cosima said, “kinda dozed off a little too.” While the stay in the fully-stocked yurt caused a pretty penny, Cosima had no regrets. The yurt is well-ventilated with several electric fans, which made sleeping on the plush queen-sized bed even more comfortable. Inside, there’s a mini-fridge and a coffee maker which she knew Delphine loved, given her daily habit of drinking at least four cups of coffee. The outdoor dining table has a colorful patio umbrella and the hang-out area has space for a campfire and a hammock. It also has a private outhouse and two outdoor dipping tubs near the shared private outdoor shower. But with no other guests in the two neighboring yurts, they have the facilities all to their own. 

“Can you set up the plates and drinks?” Cosima requested and she watched Delphine slowly get up from her seat. “Hey, tell me what hurts,” her voice laced with concern.

“I think it’s my knee,” she said as she grabbed the disposable utensils and opened one of the two bottles of wine they managed to bring. “I’ll be fine,” she tried to pick up the pace but her wince of pain and discomfort didn’t go unnoticed.

“You know,” and Cosima sashayed towards Delphine as she brought their early dinner, “there is something in my bag that can take away the pain.”

“The meds and first aid kit are in my bag, not yours,” Delphine huffed.

“What I have in mind,” Cosima said, “is more natural.” She skipped towards the yurt and came back with her Ziploc and a lighter. “And this strain is for Dad’s pain, so you know it’s really good, hella effective.” She lit a joint, held it in before puffing out a small cloud of sweet-smelling smoke and passing it to Delphine. “Come on, you know you want to…”

Delphine took the joint and Cosima grinned as she took her first hit, watching the way the blonde wrapped the joint around her perfect lips. 

\-----

~~Rule Number 4: Not getting naked around each other~~

They were out of wine and the bag only had a few rolled joints left when Delphine roped Cosima into taking a soak in the dipping tubs behind the yurt.

“It’s gonna be so cold,” Cosima half-heartedly voiced out while grabbing the pre-provided bath robes from inside the glamorous yurt.

“Exactement,” and Delphine began to strip off, “we need to sober up,” her pants and shirt pooled on the deck that housed the tubs. Cosima tried not to gawk at the sudden display of usually concealed skin - much in the same way she tried not to when they swam in the lake or when she accidentally walked in on Delphine inside the yurt while she changed out of her sleepwear. But trying to do that while baked and drunk proved to be challenging as her eyes couldn’t look away from every freckle and every dip.

Cosima caught herself before Delphine turned around to face her. She quickly removed her own clothes, wondering if – like her – Delphine was trying her best not to stare.

“I have a problem,” Delphine said with a healthy chuckle as she stood in the tub’s knee-deep water.

“We all have problems,” Cosima quipped, nervously laughing while consciously trying not to take in every detail of the blonde’s matching gray underwear. “And all of them can wait until we’re back in Berkeley.”

“This one can’t,” and Delphine began to lower herself on her own tub. “This is the only clean bra I have left and it can’t get wet. So can you…?” And the blonde bit her lower lip. 

“I’m not gonna take a peek,” Cosima said. She closed her eyes and covered them with her hands, her inebriated mind doggedly bringing back memories of Delphine in only her underwear and robe, enticing her, wanting her. Eyes half-closed, she saw a faint image of Delphine’s puckered nipples from the slats between her fingers as she sat in the middle of the other tub and hugged her knees close to her chest.

“Would it make you feel less exposed if I take mine off too?” Cosima knew it was the combination of weed and alcohol that made her bold enough to ask that, and it was probably the same combination that made Delphine nod her head in agreement. Her fingers carefully work the front clasp of her simple black bra, setting it to the side. She used her arm to conceal her breasts before she could escape into the modesty of the filled tub.

When she adjusted to the water’s temperature, Cosima began to watch the soft, yellow lights that were hanging all around the yurt and the deck, avoiding looking Delphine in the eye. When that got boring, she marveled at the stars – at how tracing Ursa Major, Draco, and Ursa Minor seemed so easy under a clear night sky. She was reaching for a joint when she noticed Delphine, an arm raised above her head, giggling as she traced constellations with her index finger.

“What do you see?” Cosima curiously asked.

“Lyra,” and Delphine traced the stars and gave Cosima a look of wonderment. “Cygnus,” she then said, lazily connecting celestial dots with her finger.

“Delphinus,” Cosima said, taking Delphine’s outstretched hand and guiding it to trace the constellation she shares her name with. “Invert it and it’s kinda the same shape as that scar on your chest,” a quip that made the blonde blush. “You never told me how you got it.”

“I didn’t?” Delphine said, playing coy, “probably because you never asked.”

“Well, I’m asking now,” and Cosima playfully flicked water on Delphine’s face.

“Oh mon amie,” and Delphine rested her head on one of her knees, which also has an interesting looking scar that Cosima just noticed. “Why do you always have such bad timing when it comes to me?”

“What?” Cosima asked, wondering if they’re still talking about stars and scars.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes, I want to know,” Cosima said, unsure but curious of the dark alley she just walked into, “now more than ever actually.”

“I had an accident about six years ago,” Delphine said with a laugh, “car versus motorcycle. I busted my knee too,” and she rubbed the healed scar on her limb.

“You’re right,” and Cosima joined in the laughter, “my timing really sucks.”

“You’re free to hike back to the garage tomorrow,” Delphine teased, “I will wait.” And Cosima noticed that Delphine was still holding on to her hand. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Does Emi know about the other girls?”

Cosima was slightly taken aback, but with Delphine seemingly tracing constellations on her palm, she felt safe to answer honestly. “She knows,” she said, surprised at the strange feeling of shame that came with her words. “She knows who they are – at least I’m honest that way. We were never exclusive and she’s free to do the same.”

“But she isn’t,” Delphine inferred, her fingers still coasting on Cosima’s palm. “Which is why she’s going Elmyra on you,” and they both chuckled softly at the blonde’s attempt at using the new reference. “Do you love her?”

“You dated Steve for almost a year,” Cosima said, suddenly feeling defensive and a bit on edge as she pulled her hand away from Delphine to light the joint. “Did you love him?”

“No,” Delphine said with a shrug, “which is why that’s over. But you’re still with Emi - even if there are other girls…I’m just saying there must be love there, you know?”

Cosima didn’t know where the question led. “Or great, wild sex,” but she still went for bluntness, “with someone who knows what they’re doing…Who doesn’t need coaching or persuasion. Sometimes that’s enough because life is hard as it is and sex shouldn’t be hard too. Or if hardcore floats your boat, no judgment,” she rambled, but the joke fell flat. “I guess what I’m saying is Emi, she may not be the 100% perfect girl for me - none of them are…” And Cosima couldn’t help but look at Delphine as she said those words. “But,” she averted her eyes and took a hit, “even a 0% perfect girl would make you feel less alone, would make you forget…albeit momentarily.”

“I see,” and Cosima saw an indecipherable disappointment in the blonde’s face as she passed the joint to her.

“I gotta tell you though,” she said, hoping to inject some lightness, some teasing into a conversation that turned heavy, “she’s especially jealous of you.”

“Me?” Delphine said, coughing up smoke.

“Yeah. Mom may have told Emi that I asked you to sail with us first,” Cosima said, “and since meeting you at the party, she always had this feeling that she’s a glorified second choice. She had no issues when I come over late because I was at some party or whatever. But when I text her that I can’t make it or I’ll be late because we’re researching or studying, she flips… Eventually I just stopped telling her. It made life easier.” 

“I should be the least of her worries,” and Delphine took a healthy inhale as she echoed what she said at the start of their trip. “You and I are friends,” she exhaled.

“You and I,” and Cosima took the joint from Delphine’s fingers with a shake of her head, “we’re not just friends…no matter how many times I say we’re just friends.” Cosima used the joint to give herself a few seconds to come up with the next words to say. “I’ve thought about you,” she confessed, “I think about you,” she corrected. “Don't you think it's time we admit what this is really about?” And Cosima shifted to get in the middle of her tub, knees and legs also covering her bare chest so she could be face to face with Delphine.

Delphine refused when Cosima tried to pass the shortened joint. “I’m not oblivious, Cosima. I think about you too.” Cosima wanted to reach in, pull Delphine closer but she stopped, knowing that the blonde had more to say.

“When I think of you, I think about you and me – how we’re friends…and more,” Delphine bit her lip after she said that. “But then I also think about the girls you seem to have wrapped around each finger,” and she began to trace the long scar on her knee, her eyes no longer looking at Cosima. “And I think about how much I want to be selfish with you…How much I want to share with you but don’t want to share you with anybody else, you know?” She punctuated it with a small nod, a tight smile, and pleading eyes - as if she was waiting for Cosima to say something.

But Cosima, overwhelmed by Delphine’s words, held her tongue in trepidation. And with a deep sigh, Delphine continued. “When I think of you, I see us five, ten years from now – you and me, still in each other’s lives, correcting each other’s papers, complaining and talking about life, looking at stars. And I think more than anything that’s what I want. But I think the only way I can get that is if we just stay friends. We are…” And Delphine finally gave her a long, loving, but melancholic glance with eyes seemingly wet with tears, “awfully good at being buddies.” 

“Yeah, that’s a good choice,” Cosima said - trying to salvage some pride with a put-on grin. “Besides, I think about a lot of people the way I think about you. I enjoy lovers…That’s just how I’m wired I guess, and I make no apologies for that.” She added words laced with faux confidence and finished off the joint to mask what she really felt about what Delphine said. “But I do love the sound of that,” Cosima added, slowly getting up from the tub, making sure her back was to Delphine as she put on her robe.

“What?” Delphine asked.

Cosima grabbed the other robe and opened it for the blonde who carefully and gratefully slipped into it. “Five, ten years from now – you and me still in each other’s lives,” and she rubbed her palms on Delphine’s clothed arms to ignite some warmth. “That would be great.”

\-----

“Technically, mon amie,” Delphine said, trying to hide her smile on the pillow, “we didn’t break all the rules. We kept some of our underwear on, non?”

The high and the buzz had considerably gone down, and Cosima would never admit that the dip did help sober her up quicker. “True,” she said, getting up from the bed to cross the short distance to the mini-fridge. “1/2 out of 6,” and she came back bearing two cans of root beer, “and a root beer with no float. We didn’t fully strike out.”

Delphine sat up and took the can, immediately saying “santé,” when Cosima hopped back into bed.

“Okay, now I have to ask,” stopping Delphine from opening her root beer, “what’s with the weird eye to eye contact thing that you do every time we drink?”

“Oh, it’s something we do in France,” Delphine said, still maintaining eye contact. “When somebody makes a toast, you have to look each and everyone in the group in the eye. If you don’t, you’ll have seven years of bad sex.”

“Well in that case…” And Cosima opened her can of root beer before playfully bumping her forehead on Delphine’s so they’re face to face, eye to eye. “Cheers!” And she took a gulp, trying not to laugh and spit the sugary liquid on the bed or on the giggling blonde.

“How long have we known each other?” Delphine asked, playfully pushing Cosima away by the shoulder.

“Three years give or take,” Cosima said, “feels longer to tell you the truth.”

“And in those three years that I forced you to look at my eyes when we toast, have you had bad sex?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Cosima smirked.

“Then you can thank me in part for all the lovers and good sex you’ve been enjoying,” Delphine said before opening her root beer, putting the can quickly to her lips as foam slipped out. Cosima found herself grinning from ear to ear at the sight, surprised by how much Delphine could be more endearing to her, wondering at the amount of love that she had and could have for her. How much that love would overflow in the years to come…Even if they're just friends - friends who also happen to want each other, think of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I got carried away with this chapter and I can imagine that this wouldn't be the last time that would happen, so I'm hoping you wouldn't mind a longer read. :) Thank you so much for the kind words and encouragement for this new story. Hit the comments if you want to chat or if you want to tell what you liked or didn't like.
> 
> The bit about looking at someone in the eye when making a toast is a factoid courtesy of mon amie Corsan who I'd like to thank. Ever since telling me that, I've made sure to look at everyone in the eye during a toast - there's no harm in following it anyway. 
> 
> Stay well and take care :D!


	6. August 6, 2009

“My! Don’t we look dishy?” Sarah ribbed Delphine while she sat in the middle of the couch with a bowl of popcorn on her lap.

“It’s just dinner,” Delphine said, grabbing a small handful from Sarah’s bowl, “nothing fancy.” She made sure to pick something casual but presentable for tonight: a simple form-fitting tan shirt tucked in coffee-colored bow belt trousers. She chose to keep her hair down, casually sweeping her curls to the side as she sat beside her roommate to wear a pair of sensible gold hoop earrings. 

“Isn’t it a little too early for you to be all dolled up?” And she pointed to the sweeping hands of their living room wall clock which made Delphine look at her unusually empty left wrist. “Don’t tell me you’re excited?”

“I wouldn’t want to miss this,” Delphine nonchalantly shrugged, glancing at the TV as she walked back to her room to get her watch. “And if I don’t dress up early, I’d be late.” 

Just as Delphine was reclaiming her seat on the couch, Felix sauntered in with a six-pack and a bottle of wine. “Gosh, you look good,” he couldn't help but express, looking at her approvingly from head to foot. “Except for the shoes - I mean they’re cute,” he pointed at the fluffy puppy bedroom slippers she had on, “but I don’t think it goes with all that.”

“I’ll change before I leave,” Delphine said, playfully throwing several kernels at Felix who was sitting beside Sarah preparing to retaliate.

“Oi, oi, knock it off you two!” Sarah warned as she chewed her snack. “You both know how hard it is to keep this sofa clean!”

“Not surprising,” Felix retorted as he opened a can, “I used to sleep here and there’s all sorts of filth in the cushions.” He made a face conveying that he found more than just loose change in the corners of the couch. “What’s really surprising is that there is no alcohol in this house.”

“Really?” Delphine asked, a bit surprised at Felix’s observation. “Not even cooking wine?”

“Not a lick,” Felix said, exaggerating every word. She was about to ask Sarah about it but she got distracted when Cosima appeared – wearing nothing but a shiny silver bikini and a shit-eating grin on national TV.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, the mixture of amusement and confusion settling in her face as they watched Hypothesis’ teaser intro.

“They’re testing a theory,” Delphine said, her eyes glued to the screen as Cosima put her dreads in a bun. “Something about a Tin Man…”

“Like Wizard of Oz?” Sarah asked.

“Ouais…?” Delphine’s reply was more of a question. “Apparently, the original Tin Man had a life-threatening reaction to the aluminum dust, and that’s what they’re testing now. Cosima is replicating the Tin Man’s makeup to confirm the story or to figure out if the severe allergic reaction was just limited to the Tin Man.”

“Honestly, did you understand anything you just said?” Felix asked as he took another chug. Delphine shook her head. “That’s it! You, me, and little miss couch police over here are going to have a movie night. First on the list: The Wizard of Oz. Next: Xanadu!”

“Fucking Xanadu again, Fee?!?” And Delphine laughed when Sarah dramatically rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, fucking Xanadu again! Don’t worry - I won’t dance on roller-skates this time,” Felix said with mock indignation. “And you love it too - don’t even try to deny it. That movie made the move from Bristol to North America so much easier for us both.” In the years of sharing a house with Sarah, Delphine had learned that she and her brother Fee were foster kids who moved to Toronto in the mid-90s with their foster mom, Siobhan – who Delphine met last Christmas. When they came of age after high school, they somehow found their separate ways to San Francisco – Sarah through Vic, and Fee through small-time painting jobs in and out of the Bay. 

“Count me in if we also get to watch Singin’ in the Rain,” Delphine said.

“Well that’s a surprise,” Felix reacted. “I was expecting you to force something French down our throats. Not that I’d mind,” salaciously wetting his lips, “that Alain Delon is so hot!”

“It’s Gene’s favorite film,” Delphine whispered, exchanging furtive looks with Sarah. “I’ve been meaning to check it out but I don’t want to watch it alone.” Delphine was supposed to watch it with Gene. The TV in his hospital room was always tuned to the classic movie channel, hoping to chance upon it during his confinement. “ _We’ll make a day of it one day,_ ” Delphine remembered Gene promising when he was discharged, “ _you, me, Sally, Cos, Singin’ in the Rain, a bottle of wine, and a plate of cheese and crackers._ ”

“Cos looks like she’s having fun though,” and Felix pointed at the TV as Cosima mixed her aluminum powder-body paint in a bucket. She brushed her arm with the paint solution as she explained the contents of the paint and the process of mixing it. She turned into a disembodied giggle as her co-hosts began to cover her entire body with the silver concoction.

“Is she high when she filmed this?” Felix asked. “I only see her laugh like that when we’re testing new products at the loft.”

“Non, I think it’s just the giggles,” Delphine quickly came to Cosima’s defense, naively but fervently wishing for it to be just a simple case of the giggles. “Cosima is very ticklish, especially in that area,” and she pointed to the dreadlocked brunette’s armpits that were being brushed with paint.

Sarah and Felix exchange knowing looks. “How do you know she’s ticklish in those areas?” Sarah teased.

“Cal has been calling, by the way,” Delphine said, tactically switching subjects. Felix barely stifled his laugh at how quickly things shifted and escalated. “He said he’s been trying to reach you for a week now.”

“I don’t do phone calls,” Sarah scoffed, her eyes focused on Cosima as she gets asked by the show’s medic if she’s experiencing itchiness or other skin irritations.

“He said he’s been messaging you for weeks since he was last here, and you haven’t replied.” While Sarah never had any difficulty bringing home a date any given night, Delphine knew that she kept in touch with Cal - that whenever she’s in Toronto visiting Siobhan, she would meet up with him to spend a day, sometimes even a weekend together. Sarah never talked about Cal explicitly, merely mentioning him in passing whenever she passed on his regards. It was a pleasant surprise for her when a couple of months ago, she got home after a long day at Dyad working on Leekie’s various projects and on her dissertation to the sight of Cal cooking dinner for them, saving Delphine from doing her usual chore. She only needed to read between the lines to know that whatever Sarah and Cal have was far from a fleeting love affair.

“ _I’m a little wet…and cold,_ ” Cosima the TV host said, capturing the living room’s collective attention, “ _but other than that…I could breathe just fine,_ ” and she let out a surprised yelp when a co-host began dabbing paint on her side and waist.

“Is she ticklish there too?” Felix puckishly asked. The Cal talk may have silenced Sarah, but not her brother who looked at Delphine teasingly as he waited for an answer. She could only blush in response.

They continued to watch as Cosima got covered with silver paint from head to toe. “ _The first man slated for the Tin Man role had painted himself with aluminum powder and got really sick - cramped up all his muscles, stopped breathing,”_ Cosima narrated in her endearing rapid-fire way. _“He ended up in an iron lung. He spent two weeks in a hospital and a month in recovery. So if that happens to me, I just want to say,_ ” Cosima said amidst fits of laughter, “ _Love you, Dad…You too, Mom…You three, Countess._ ” 

“Countess?” Sarah smirked. “Who the fuck is that?”And to avoid further scrutiny, Delphine headed to the kitchen under the guise of washing her hands. She hated the things associated with her last name, but somehow she didn’t mind Cosima’s secret pet name for her.

“Who cares?” Felix said with a wave of his hand. “At least it’s not Emi,” and Sarah nodded. As it turned out, when it comes to who Cosima hung out with, it’s not only Delphine she had issues with – for some reason, she also didn’t like Sarah and Felix.

“Yeah, glad she chewed her way out of that bear trap,” Sarah joked. After becoming a permanent co-presenter for Hypothesis, Cosima moved to the Mission District to be closer to the facilities where they film episodes. When Emi began accepting sublet offers for her Berkeley apartment (expecting that they’ll be moving in together), Cosima broke up with her. Delphine bumped into Emi on campus post-break up – in Crescent Lawn while she and Scott had a rare lunch out of the lab. “ _If looks could kill,_ ” she recounted to Cosima over drinks that night.

“And it could be anyone,” Felix added, “you know how she is, especially now.” And as Delphine rejoined them on the couch, she tried hard not to think too much of what Felix meant.

Cosima’s experiment went smoothly - even with her co-hosts’ incessant teasing and the need for her to take oxygen to decrease her elevated heart rate. The only time she looked uneasy was when she was spraying silver paint on her dreads. But her discomfort wore off easily as she danced the robot, amusing herself and her co-hosts. By the end of it, the theory was busted and Cosima survived her aluminum paint session with nary a scratch.

“I wonder how many hits this would get on YouTube,” Felix said..

“Hundreds of thousands, I guess,” Sarah said, “mostly geeks salivating over a hot geek.” A few Hypothesis episodes in and Cosima had already garnered a considerable following with her quick wit, her looks, and her innate charm and impishness - something that didn’t surprise Delphine. And with Cosima’s segment finished, she stood from the couch, leaving brother and sister alone to watch the rest of the show as she finished preparing for the night.

\-----

The first thing Cosima did when she opened her eyes was check the time on her phone - 5:35 p.m. and a shit ton of missed calls and messages. She’s late, but what else is new? And while her normal response would be a mad dash to get ready and get going to wherever she needed to be, nothing could lessen the gravity of her tardiness today. She might as well continue oversleeping - after all, no amount of hurrying could turn back time.

But Cosima could no longer go back to sleep, having already surrendered to the inevitability of time and of minutes passing by. She rubbed and massaged her eyes, the crust of yesterday’s mascara smearing her fingers as she sat up. With her other hand she grabbed her glasses, wiping the lens with her bed linens before wearing them. She ran a palm over her nape and shoulder blades, feeling the stubborn knots that have settled there, the discreet manifestations of her tensions and fears.

She got up, haphazardly tossing the blanket to the other side of the bed. She didn’t bother with a robe, walking naked towards her kitchen to wash away a bad case of morning breath. _Is it technically still morning breath if I woke up around dinner time?_ She asked herself as she gargled. _Maybe I could pitch it to the producers_ , she thought as she spat, “ _an experiment figuring out which morning breath is smellier._ ”

Now more awake, the remnants of yesterday’s hard alcohol and magic shrooms began to swirl in Cosima’s head. She closed her eyes, hoping to make the world stop from spinning, but all she could see were kaleidoscope-like images in hues of blue, yellow, and red. She pushed her glasses up to the top of her head, turning on the tap to repeatedly splash her face with cold water. The simple act of washing her face made her feel the need to hurl, but as she was about to retch, the dizzying color show miraculously stopped. She opened her eyes and fished for the nearest kitchen towel, wiping her face and pulling down her glasses before taking a relieved breath.

“Just get through tonight,” Cosima bargained with herself, “and everything would be fine.”

No longer on shaky footing, she carefully turned and walked to the fridge. There’s nothing in it but cans of beer and Red Bull, a basket of nectarines from Delphine that had seen better days, and rows of bottled frappuccino. She grabbed one, gave it a shake and opened it quickly before chugging almost half of it in one pull. She saved the rest for later, tightening the lid before putting it back inside.

With caffeine and sugar coursing through her body, all Cosima needed was a shower to feel like a functional human being again. She opted to use the common bath closer to the kitchen instead of the bigger bathroom in her room. She pulled back the shower curtain, cranked up the hot water without getting in and locked the door. The room easily got filled with steam, fogging Cosima’s glasses that were lying on the edge of the vanity. She turned the other knob moderately, making sure that the water’s very hot but not scalding before stepping into the shower.

Under the hot stream Cosima started crying, the water eroding all her defense mechanisms. She allowed herself a minute or two before choosing to stubbornly bottle up all her emotions, focusing on meticulously lathering her locks with her tea tree spearmint shampoo. She grabbed the same matching variant of soap, washing away traces of last night’s debauchery. The suds had long been gone, but Cosima stayed in the shower as if afraid to allow the day to unfold - only grabbing the towel and turning the knob when the hot water ran out. 

After quickly brushing her teeth, she wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror with her palm so she could quickly moisturize and put on makeup. These days, she’d been avoiding long, hard looks in the mirror, terrified to acknowledge that she’s beginning to not recognize the person staring back at her.

“You’ll be fine,” Cosima said to her reflection, “it’ll be over in a few hours.” She couldn’t hide her scoff at the first lie she told herself today.

Instinctively, Cosima headed for the coat closet where she stowed away her suitcase instead of going to her walk-in. She hadn’t unpacked, even if it had been almost a week since she arrived from a two-week Hypothesis promotional tour - doing back-to-back publicity work in L.A. before hitting up the San Diego Comic-Con with the cast and creators. Luckily there were still clean clothes in it: a pair of underwear, a simple dark blue shirt, and a patchwork leather mini skirt. She also took a printed cardigan from the suitcase after it passed the smell test.

She was slipping on her gray driving loafers while she walked back to the kitchen to open the pantry and grab a half-empty bottle of vodka. She quickly went to the fridge and grabbed the bottled coffee she opened earlier, topping it up with the clear liquid. Cosima gave the concoction a vigorous shake before placing all that she needed to bring in a spacious shopping bag. 

She was already out of the door, waiting for an elevator to the garage when she remembered something. She made a meek return to the apartment, fishing for a pen and post-it in her study to write a note.

_Hey_ – and Cosima paused, the tip of her pen at the stem of the letter _y_. She couldn’t for the life of her remember the name of the girl in her bed.

_Hey!_ She went for an enthusiastic exclamation point instead. _I have to run. But help yourself with anything you like and please lock the door when you leave._ Tiptoeing in her own house, she posted the note by the light switch in her room near the door before she left.

Cosima was alone in the elevator, twirling her car keys around her finger the entire ride down. She got to the garage, unlocked her car - a red Audi S4 cabriolet - and tossed the bag in the backseat before starting the engine to put the top down with a switch. She drank her coffee as she waited for the soft top to fully fold into the car before returning it to the cup holder in between the front seats.

“Just get through tonight,” Cosima coached herself one more time before pulling out of her slot, “act normal, pretend everything’s okay…And maybe that’ll be enough.”

\-----

Delphine insisted on driving to the restaurant instead of being picked up in the house. She wanted to have the freedom of getting home in her own accord - and with the Sidekick’s new radiator and newly-serviced engine, it would be safer and more comfortable for her to just drive, even if parking and traffic would be hellish.

She gave Sarah and Felix a quick wave as she chucked the slippers to buckle her chunky-heeled, Rome-style, brown sandals.

“Hope you get lucky, blondie,” Felix said as a goodbye while she grabbed a dependable long quilted jacket before closing the door and walking to her car. As she waited for the engine to warm up, Delphine didn’t know if she should brush off her friend’s comment or dread it. She checked her phone for the restaurant’s address, familiarizing herself with the directions before absently stuffing it back inside her black purse. She pulled out of the garage, giving Doug – who was sitting on the steps of his front porch – a friendly beep and a wave.

While Delphine had been driving back and forth from Emeryville to Berkeley - with Oyster Point and the Missions being the latest additions to her usual destinations - driving to bustling San Francisco neighborhoods always made her uneasy. The streets were quite confusing, and more than once she got a parking citation when visiting Cosima in her apartment. Cosima took care of the hassle, reminding her to park in her space the next time she visits.

But these days, the brunette was either too busy to hang out or would insist on meeting up in some noisy bar or dance club where talking would be minimal but the free drinks and groupies would be overflowing. Wanting to spend time with Cosima even if those places were not her scenes, Delphine always accepted the invitation – trying to keep an eye out for Cosima for as long as she could until she had to go because of an early meeting at Dyad or a class she had to T.A. Oftentimes they left together, but in the many times that Cosima chose to stay (usually because of a girl she’s probably going to take home for the night), Delphine always felt guilty and worried – and somewhat hurt and jealous if she’s being honest. 

Lining up for the cash queue in the Bay Bridge Toll, Delphine remembered some of the reasons why she said yes to this dinner: the promise of a quiet, adult conversation in a restaurant that claims to be French-inspired. Whether the adult conversation would be engaging or whether the food would make her miss home, she didn’t know. She chose not to worry too much about it, focusing on the road so she won’t miss her exit.

But as she merged to enter the Central Freeway, with the restaurant only a few turns and small pockets of traffic away, Delphine couldn’t help but think of the other reasons why she’s dressed up tonight, driving to a nearby unknown instead of logging more hours in the lab for her dissertation. For one, she needed to fend off Leekie – he’s been trying to invite her for dinner and for “private consultations” about her lab experiments and Gene’s disease. She stayed true to her promise to Cosima – to not yield to his advances. But she was running out of excuses and his patience had been wearing thin. Maybe the semblance of being attached to someone who’s a fixture at Dyad would tone down his unwanted attention.

Turning to Cole Street, Delphine luckily spotted an empty parking slot in between two cars from across the restaurant. As she fed the parking meter with the necessary amount of coins, she spotted Paul Dierden standing in front of the restaurant with a small bouquet of flowers in hand. He’s wearing a blue button-down shirt and a pair of khakis in an attempt to look more casual and relaxed. _He’s trying too hard_ , Delphine thought as she checked if all her doors were locked. She wouldn’t have minded if he wore his usual tailored suit for tonight. His rugged, handsome face lit up when he spotted her crossing the street.

“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this,” Paul said, going for a kiss on the cheek that Delphine politely accepted along with the arranged bouquet.

To Delphine’s slight surprise, one of Dyad’s projects - a dermal drug delivery system for motion sickness and treatment-induced nausea, had garnered not only the attention of big pharmaceutical companies but also of the military. _“1 in 3 soldiers suffer from motion sickness,”_ Paul dryly said during a meeting she attended as Leekie’s lab tech six months ago when the military first assigned him to be their Dyad liaison. _“And that’s why we’re in bed with you. If you can get our boys…”_

“ _And girls,_ ” Delphine corrected. It was a whisper but it was audible enough for Paul’s ears, making him pause to look at her. Since then, he’d been frequenting their lab to monitor their progress. “ _It’s all in the report we submit every week_ ,” Scott – who accepted Cosima’s supposed position - said. Paul brushed him aside, keeping up with his twice a week lab visits. A month later, when the Sidekick blew a hole in its radiator, Paul offered to keep Delphine company while she waited for Cosima to pick her up from Dyad. He ended up giving her a ride home when Cosima said she couldn’t make it in time. He had been asking her out ever since, and while she eventually agreed to a date, she was non-committal about the specifics. 

The restaurant, with its friendly exteriors and warm garden patios, was inviting and laidback. Paul secured them one of the inner outdoor patio tables, ordering the restaurant’s most expensive bottle of Pinot noir along with their appetizers. Delphine wanted to say that just because a wine is expensive doesn’t mean it’s the best. She would have recommended a more affordable bottle of French Chardonnay that would highlight the flavors of whatever main course they’d choose.

“Can I just say,” Paul said in his friendliest voice, interrupting her thoughts about his poor wine choices, “that standing there waiting for you made me so nervous, I thought I was back in Afghanistan.”

“So you’re comparing me to a deadly terrorist group?” Delphine quipped. It was a joke - something Cosima would have an easy laugh and retort for if she was the one on the other side of the table.

Except he wasn’t Cosima, and Paul’s friendly tone was replaced by a hint of panic. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry,” he said amidst what sounded like nervous laughter. “It’s just…I don’t really know how to talk to you, what to talk about with you outside work.”

The wine thankfully arrived and Delphine immediately took a sip. “You can talk about something we both know – something about work perhaps,” she suggested.

“I’m sorry to hear about your setbacks with the iPSC trial,” Paul said, making Delphine think that it would have been better if he stuck with the Afghanistan talk.

“Really? Out of all the things you could say, that’s what you bring up?” Delphine huffed, the irritation about the failing trial and what it meant bubbling in her usually calm façade.

“I thought it was the reason why you kept pushing this back,” he explained. “I know you’re pretty stressed about it…With your lone clinical trial subject faltering.”

“He’s not just a subject,” Delphine breathed out, the irritation becoming silent fury. “He’s a loving father, a devoted husband. This man was one of the first ocean conservationists on scene during the largest oil spill in this country’s history. He’s also my friend. If you’re going to talk about him as if he’s nothing but a lab rat, I highly suggest you switch topics. Or better yet - ” Delphine was opening her purse, grabbing bills to pay for her half of the truncated dinner. While the initial iPSC treatment shrunk Gene’s lung polyps, it didn’t taper the disease’s aggressiveness. They were so focused on his lungs that they didn’t account for the possibility of other growths until last March - a week after Cosima’s birthday, when Gene had a seizure that landed him in a hospital. The results were grim: the polyps had invaded his central nervous system.

“His name is Gene.” It was Paul’s last ditch effort to turn this dinner around. “He’s 65 years old, about my height. He has a daughter, and a wife who drove him and doted on him. He served in Vietnam - in the Navy, aboard the USS Maddox in the early to mid 1960s. He told me about the things he saw there: people and animals lifelessly floating on the waters after every naval offensive. That’s why he became a marine conservationist - to dedicate his life to doing the good he believed he failed to do in Vietnam.”

Delphine was stunned into silence. “I spoke with him three months ago when he was at Dyad,” Paul continued. “He was waiting for his daughter to pick him up because his wife had a class to teach. She was late so we had a cup of coffee together. He told me that you have a bright future ahead of you; that knowing you is one of the good things that came out of his illness. He’s very fond of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Delphine uttered, “I overreacted and -”

“I understand,” Paul said, reaching out to hold Delphine’s hand. She wasn’t sure why she allowed the touch – maybe it’s her way of offering a clean slate for tonight. “Delphine, I’m more than just a military lackey. I’m actually a nice person who happens to like you. So, can we just have dinner and see if I’m someone you’d be interested to get to know too?”

Paul was trying, Delphine thought as she nodded and offered him a timid smile. The least she could do tonight was try too. 

\-----

Even with the traffic, Cosima felt that the drive from her apartment to Berkeley knocked out whatever hangover she was nursing. She’s sweating, but the feel of the wind blowing on her face as she drove along Bay Bridge with the top down made her feel less rotten. Entering the driveway of her parents’ bungalow, she prepared herself for a major berating. She missed their weekly family lunch - something that Gene requested they do when he decided to stop all treatments. Usually held on Sundays, they had to move it to today with Cosima filming in Alaska for Hypothesis this weekend.

She pulled the top up and finished her bottled coffee before grabbing the shopping bag and locking the car. Cosima was already thinking of a plausible excuse - something that involves Delphine because her folks love her. She settled for _“a lab emergency that Delphine needed help with”_ when her mother began to march towards her.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Sally said, with no hint of emotion in her voice. Cosima could take her mother’s anger and her condescension about her life choices, but Sally treating her fuck up with quiet acceptance always rocked her to the core. It was as if she’s no longer surprised that Cosima managed to disappoint yet again.

“I had a thing with Delphine,” she replied, trying out the lie as they walked towards the front door. “She had questions about customizing her lab and I didn’t notice the time. Where’s Dad?”

Sally opened the door for Cosima, getting her cardigan and hanging it by a small coat rack. Cosima couldn’t help but shrink under her mother’s scrutinizing gaze. “Your father is in his room,” she said, “he’s been waiting for you since noon,” succinctly pouring that added layer of guilt before leaving Cosima alone in the foyer. 

Apart from the living room, a kitchen, and a shared bathroom, the house only had two rooms – her parents’ bedroom and a room that used to be a home office. There’s a detached studio near the back patio where Cosima used to sleep, but Sally already converted it to a study when Gene needed a separate bedroom after his last hospital stay. She walked towards her father’s room, catching a whiff of the lingering antiseptic smell in the short hallway. Landing on the doorstep, she still couldn’t reconcile the current image of her father with the pictures of him she held close to her heart.

When she was six, Gene taught her how to swim. Cosima remembered sitting on her father’s strong shoulders as they walked to deeper parts of a pool or a lake, how she never felt afraid of drowning because he was there. He taught her how to sail before she turned 12, how proud he was when she rigged their dinghy by herself for the first time and when she tacked unassisted as they sailed toward the marina. Gene always picked her up from school, making sure they stop for ice cream before heading home. He was busy but he never missed a Parent-Teacher conference, never missed a graduation - not even a simple moving up ceremony.

He was always there for her, beaming with kindness and pride, generously giving her the belief that she could be whatever she wanted to be for as long as she set her mind to it. These days, Cosima longed to see herself through Gene’s eyes. Maybe then, she’d be able to look at herself in the mirror without flinching.

But he’d gone thin now, very pale and bald. He slept for most parts of the day, his face and body battle-weary from the nasty cyclophosphamide treatment that replaced his iPSC regimen when it became too experimental and unpredictable. The thought of never seeing her father look her way ever again was more than enough for Cosima to seek temporary solace in work, in alcohol, in meaningless sex. In just about anything within her reach that could temporarily take the pain of watching him suffer and wilt. 

“Hey kid,” Gene groaned - his voice broken and husky.

“Pops,” Cosima softly said, surprised that he’s awake as she entered the room to sit by the bed. But Gene patted the empty space beside him so she ended up sitting on the mattress, careful not to put kinks on the wires delivering his pain meds. “I came bearing gifts,” and Cosima retrieved the bag’s contents one by one.

Gene gave him the best smile he could muster, his gaze shifting slowly from his daughter to the things she brought. Cosima tried to avoid his eyes, wanting to not think about how something simple like smiling could be painful for him with his severely chapped lips. “That’s from Delphine,” she tried to sound cheerful.

“Thank her for me,” Gene said, caressing the illustrated cover of a thick Sherlock Holmes hardbound collection. “It’s a little ambitious, don’t you think? You might want to steer her towards poems in the near future.” Cosima tried to disregard the comment, focusing instead on how her father’s eyes lit up when he saw another one of Delphine’s gifts, a Singin’ in the Rain DVD. “This?” He asked, pointing to a blank DVD case.

“It’s the production copy of Hypothesis Season 3,” Cosima said. “You want to watch it?” He nodded and she slowly crawled out of bed to pop it in the player.

She made sure to pick a short, easy to follow segment for her father to watch. She chose to go with the Beer Goggles episode - where she and the two main hosts tried to delve into the common belief that alcohol can make people look more attractive. Cosima found herself amused at how ridiculous she looked. She wore actual yellow-tinted beer goggle glasses as she did the experiment – rating pictures of 30 women while sober, downing a few pints of beer before rating them again, then getting plastered with hard alcohol to rate them one last time. They charted the ratings to prove or debunk the theory.

“ _I can’t remember,_ ” Cosima watched herself slur on TV, _“if I rated higher or lower than either of my scores.”_

“64-point jump from the baseline,” Gene did the quick math. “You drank a lot.”

“All for science,” she meekly replied. “Beer goggles are a thing, Dad.”

“And the other times you drink is for science too?” Gene asked.

“It’s just a show, Dad,” Cosima uttered, surprised at the bite her father’s words had. “Does something hurt? Do you need me to up the dosage or -” Maybe it was just the pain making him irritable.

“I’m okay,” he said. “The only thing that pains me right now is seeing you like this.”

“It’s just a show, Dad,” she repeated, “a means to an end,” Cosima added, somewhat frustrated that Gene didn’t find it entertaining or funny even at the slightest.

“But to what end?” And Gene paused the TV to look directly at her. “Can I be frank, Cos?” He said when he didn’t get an answer. 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No…because I don’t want to take this to my grave,” and Gene held her hand. “Me and your mom, we always said you could do anything you wanted.”

“Okay,” Cosima said condescendingly. “What do you want me to do then?”

“Something good,” Gene whispered.

“I happen to be good at this in case you guys didn’t notice,” Cosima frustratingly pointed to the television, trying to mask the hurt.

“It’s not about the goddamn show,” and Gene gingerly rubbed his eyes at his poor choice of words. “I won't be here anymore when it happens, but I know you’re going to go places, kid. I know you’re going to be decent, loving, accomplished...” He sobbed, his voice hitching, making Cosima look at his eyes which up until now she had never seen wet with tears. “I don’t think you’re there yet. And right now, I worry that you're not gonna get there. I worry that you’re losing your way…That you’re not very nice anymore.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Cosima said in surrender, biting her lip to suppress whatever emotion her father’s words stoked.

“I’m not here to argue with you,” Gene said, the beginnings of a coughing fit imminent, replacing his tiny sobs. “Sorry…The stuff for the pain makes me ratty.” He barely finished the sentence before he was reaching out for his cannula.

Cosima immediately got out of bed, helping her father with the oxygen tank before pouring a glass of water for him that he quickly took. “I think I should go,” she said when the coughing stopped. 

“Stay a bit,” Gene pleaded, “get some rest, then be on your way.”

Cosima lay beside her father, leaning her head on an unusually fragile shoulder. She closed her eyes, lulling herself to sleep with memories of treading water as a child - the fear of sinking far from her mind with her father by her side.

\-----

As Delphine expected, the Pinot noir that Paul ordered didn’t pair well with the restaurant’s coq au vin, which for some reason used Pinot gris instead of the traditional red wine-based sauce. The dish was plated well and tasted interesting - she’ll give it that - but it wasn’t really something that her palate would crave after tonight. Still, she took considerable bites, hoping that it would be better with every taste.

She also surmised that the conversation was as okay as the chicken. Over dinner, she learned that Paul’s from Seattle, which explains why his favorite teams are the Seahawks and the Mariners ( _American football and baseball,_ she guessed as he talked about it). In turn, she talked about tennis: how much she loved it, how long it had been since she last played – remembering how she tried to teach Cosima how to volley only for her to fall butt-first on the hard court, the timbre of her laughter about her clumsiness making the memory unforgettable. He pivoted to talk about how he got into the military after two years of studying engineering, hoping to find something he’d excel in. In response, she talked about her time as an MSF doctor in Haiti and her research projects, toning down the science when his eyes began to glaze over as she talked about host-parasite relationships.

“One of the first things I noticed about you,” Paul said as he put his wine glass down, “apart from the obvious beauty and intelligence of course, is your watch.”

“What about it?” Delphine asked, caressing its brown leather strap. It was the first thing he mentioned outside his usual talking points.

“It’s a Rolex 5517, the MilSub. This,” and Paul unbuttoned a cuff on his dress shirt to show his watch, “is a homage to that watch,” he said, quickly buttoning it back. “At first I thought it’s a replica, but it didn’t take long for me to know that it’s the real thing. You do know that there are only 1,200 of those made, right?”

“Are you telling me you’re a budding horologist too?” Delphine quipped as she sliced her chicken, steering the conversation away from the personal.

“They were made exclusively for the British Ministry of Defence in the 1970s,” Paul continued, not taking the bait. “There are about 180 pieces in circulation now - which makes it very rare, very valuable for collectors. A holy grail. Just like its owner.”

“That’s not the reason why it’s priceless to me,” Delphine said, disregarding his line. She glanced from her watch to Paul, ruing how much Cosima had ruined her for other people. How her connection with the dreadlocked brunette became her benchmark for human interaction. With Cosima, conversations had always been free-flowing and engaging, effortlessly jumping from science to the personal to the funny to the poignant to the absurd. When they’re together, Delphine talks freely with no fear of being judged. Even now when things between them had been changing, she was still at ease, more relaxed when Cosima’s around.

She couldn’t think of anybody else who made her feel that way.

But then she remembered their camping trip – how she voiced out her feelings and fears, hoping that Cosima would assuage them with a kiss, a promise that she can be all in with her too. That she would at least try. The obvious panic on the brunette’s face was enough of an answer for her. In the end, Cosima couldn’t give her what she wanted. So maybe she should give this man – someone who seemed eager to give what Cosima couldn’t – a chance.

“My aunt, Louise-Anne, who practically raised me and my brother, gave it to me when I began taking my bac,” Delphine breathed out.

“You mean like the SATs?” Paul asked.

“Oui, only harder and longer… I always wanted to be a doctor so I needed to ace these tests. Tante Louise-Anne took it off her wrist and gave it to me one night while I was studying. She said it’s her gift in advance because she knew I was going to do well.”

“Is your aunt like MI6 or DGSE or something?” Paul inquired, “because they only made those for high-ranking MOD members.”

“Non,” Delphine timidly smiled. “My Aunt got it from her longtime paramour who was the chief burial officer of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. Tante was a linguist and they worked a lot together in identifying graves and remains of British soldiers in France. They were together for years,” and Delphine took a sip of her wine, figuring out what to say next. “This was given to my aunt with a promise - that it would only leave her wrist when they finally have a life together. I have it now, so you can just imagine how that story ended.”

Her story was met with silence. She’s glad she left out the specifics that she so easily shared with Cosima years ago. She didn’t even ask, but Delphine ended up talking about how Tante Louise-Anne’s mon amour – Olivia – had a husband and child which made having a life together complicated in more ways than one. She didn’t feel the need to mention how Tante was disowned by her family and how she credited that experience for having the grit that Delphine’s parents, cousins and most of her relatives don’t have. The same kind of grit that she tried to impart to her and Jérémie, a grit that Delphine hoped she got.

“You wanna go for desserts with me?” Paul asked, seemingly from left field. “There’s an ice cream shop nearby and -”

“What?”

“I think you earned the right to eat something sweet after the date I made you endure,” he self-deprecated. “It’s a couple of blocks away from here,” Paul said, “they have the best banana splits and root beer floats in town.”

“Root beer floats?” Delphine asked.

“Yeah,” Paul said as he settled the bill. “Have you had one? I know they’re not popular in France.”

“Maybe just some ice cream will do for tonight,” Delphine said, unsure why she even accepted, more unsure of what she’s holding onto and why.

\----- 

She turned the TV off. It was the last thing Cosima remembered doing before she fell asleep. She was awoken by nudges on her shoulder, confused for a bit about where she was until she opened her eyes and saw her father.

“Here,” it was Sally who woke her up, “drink this.” She was standing by the bed, offering Cosima a mug.

“Thanks,” and Cosima wiped the drool off her face before accepting the hot beverage, a cup of herbal green tea.

“Drink up,” her mother instructed as she left the room.

She took a tentative sip before re-wearing her shoes and straightening her glasses. She kissed her father on the forehead then headed out to follow Sally, who was in the kitchen nursing her own mug.

“I’m off,” Cosima said, putting down the barely-drank tea on the kitchen island to grab her cardigan, panicking when she didn’t find car keys in the pockets. _It must have fallen somewhere_ , she deduced - no way did she leave it in the purse inside her car.

“I’m driving you to the bus station,” Sally said, making Cosima realize that her mother had her keys in her hand all along. “You can come back for your car when you’re sober.”

“I’m not 17 anymore, Mom! You cannot confiscate my car. And I’m not drunk!” Cosima angrily replied, prompting her mother to quickly shuffle towards her.

“Do not dare insult my intelligence, Cosima,” Sally had had enough, grabbing a thin coat from the rack. “I smelled vodka on you the minute you came into this house. You forgot what day it is – that’s why you missed lunch. I bet you emptied a bar last night and you don’t even know what date it is! And you expect me to let you drive yourself home?”

“This is ridiculous,” Cosima mumbled as she watched her mother walk to the driveway. Left with no choice, she followed Sally to her own car, sulking like a teenager in the short drive from the house to the nearest bus stop.

“Let’s get something straight here,” Sally said, the anger oozing from her voice as she put the car in neutral while they waited by a stoplight. “Your father loves you very much, we all know that. But for whatever time he has left…If you ever come to see him in this state again, I will not let you in the house.” She made a left turn as soon as the light turned green. “I swear, I will close the door in your face,” her mother threatened as she pulled over near the bus stop. “Now…Go,” she said, her voice more restrained.

“Fine,” and Cosima slammed the car door before Sally sped off, the five or so people waiting at the bus stop pretended not to gawk. It was ten minutes past 10 and the F Bus won’t be arriving for another 12 minutes. Cosima didn’t notice the steady stream of tears falling from her eyes until her vision got cloudy. She fished for her phone and made a call, needing to crash and fall apart somewhere nearer with someone who would understand - someone who’d get her.

“ _Hello, this is Dr. Delphine Cormier. I apologize for not answering at the moment. Please leave a message and I will call back as soon as possible._ ”

“Oh fuck, you’re not picking up,” Cosima said. She didn’t mean to start her message by cussing, but getting Delphine’s voicemail just clued her in about today.

“I just remembered…You’re on your hot date tonight…And I’m too late…Always late.” She didn’t mean to sniffle, but the tears didn’t want to stop.

“Okay, uhm, can you call me when you get this? It’s just…I need to speak to someone. I…need someone to hold onto.” Cosima exhaled a shuddery breath, hoping it would help her regain some composure.

"Not someone," she said, opting for honesty -"You."

\-----

Paul was right, Delphine thought as she finished a cigarette before climbing the front steps of her apartment - the ice cream was great. She would have had a better time if they went there instead of the “French” restaurant. She both dreaded and looked forward to the end of their date. When he leaned in for a kiss, she didn’t stop him. She accepted, tried to reciprocate, even with the lack of sparks on her end. He seemed pleased and quite enamored, prompting him to immediately ask her out again. She agreed to dinner and drinks sometime next week.

There’s no harm in trying out someone new, she thought as she twisted the door open. But she also couldn’t wait to open the bottle of wine she bought from the liquor store nearby, hoping that the wine would wash away the unknown bitterness and loneliness she felt the entire night. She expected to be alone, but to her surprise, Sarah was sitting by their small dining table.

“You didn’t go to work?” Delphine asked, tossing her light coat on the couch and slipping out of her shoes.

“I felt a bit under the weather,” her roommate said, “I texted you about it ‘case you needed the apartment to yourself.”

Delphine took her phone out from her purse. It was hot to the touch. “The battery drained on me, I think,” she said, plugging the phone to a charger before setting the bottle on the table and getting a couple of glasses from the dish rack. “I think I forgot to turn something off when I was looking at directions. Are you okay? Do you have a fever? The flu?”

Sarah shook her head. “How did your date go?”

“You tell me,” Delphine said, pouring wine in glasses and taking a satisfied sip. “How did you think it went?”

“Well,” and Sarah grabbed the glass and ran a finger around the rim, “judging from the relieved face and the bottle of wine, I’d say it was a stinker.”

“Yes, you can say that,” and Delphine poured herself another glass.

“But you’re going out with him again, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Delphine said, “I won’t know if it’s worth a try if I don’t try, right?”

Sarah snorted as she swirled her wine. “That’s rich coming from you,” she replied.

“Pardon?” And Delphine leaned back on the chair, waiting for Sarah to explain what she meant.

“You can say the same thing about Cos, Countess,” Sarah let the last word roll off her tongue which took Delphine by surprise. “Yeah, I know. She’d slept over so many times, it’s impossible for me not to hear you two talk and talk. I mean, I thought by this time you two would have sorted out whatever unsettled sexual and romantic tension you two have with that camping trip.”

“Okay, did you ditch us on purpose?” Delphine said with an amused laugh.

“Does it matter?” Sarah asked, pushing the glass away from her. “I don’t get you two. I really don’t…" Sarah shook her head. "Look, just tell her you want to rip her clothes off,” she said with a smirk. “Just tell her you love her.”

“It’s not that simple,” Delphine said, taking another sip of her drink, tempted to tell Sarah about that night in the dipping tubs. How awfully close she got to telling Cosima she's in love with her. “With everything that’s happening with Gene, she’s not in the right headspace for that. It’ll be too much for her.” Delphine was so distraught when Gene’s iPSC treatment began to lose its efficacy that she needed to tell someone what was going on. That someone was Sarah. It surprised Delphine - how empathetic Sarah was underneath her gruff and tough exterior as she listened to her ramble on about what was happening to him and at how worried she was at Cosima's chosen coping mechanisms.

“You won’t know if it’s worth a try if you don’t try, right?” Sarah repeated her words to her.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Delphine spat back, fishing for a cigarette from the pack in her pocket.

“Can you please not smoke inside?” Sarah said, obviously uneasy about it.

“So smoking inside the house is only for guests now?” And before Sarah could even speak, Delphine suddenly noticed the untouched wine, remembered Felix’s discovery about the lack of alcohol in the house, Cal’s incessant phone calls asking about Sarah. Delphine took one look at her roommate who had been watching her piece together the signs. 

“How far along are you?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah said, exhaling a shaky breath. “A couple of months, I guess.”

“Merde…”

“Oui, Frenchie,” and Sarah angrily wiped tears from her cheeks. “It scares the shit out of me. And I don’t know what to do.”

Delphine looked at Sarah carefully, trying to figure out how she could help and what she could say that she didn’t even notice the voicemail notifications in her phone.

\-----

Cosima ended the call before her voice completely broke, and though she could already see the F Bus arriving, she chose to walk away.

She remembered a bar a few blocks from the stop. Her new destination for tonight was already packed with students trying to cram as much drinks as they could before the semester officially starts. Cosima immediately downed shot after shot of vodka before making her way to the bar’s makeshift dance floor - where a taller girl with shoulder-length blonde hair immediately got her attention.

She made her way towards her, her hands finding swaying hips. The girl looked behind her and smiled, accepting Cosima’s attention as they danced to the loud music. The woman turned around to face her and even with the warmth of alcohol, Cosima barely hid her disappointment at the unfamiliar face that came with the familiar head of hair.

“You’re Cosima, right? From Hypothesis?” The girl said, grabbing Cosima’s hips. The lack of a French accent was not lost on her even amidst the noise. She was surprised at how much she craved to hear it.

She nodded before giving the woman a deep kiss that was enthusiastically received and returned. The taste of her lips was different too: cherry lip gloss instead of vanilla, beer and tequila instead of root beer float, prompting Cosima to turn her around so they could be back to front. It’s easier to pretend this way, when all she could see were blonde locks, as she coasted her lips and tongue on the woman’s neck. Her hands travelled from the woman’s hips to the inside of her skirt, which made her tilt her head back to whisper something in Cosima’s ear.

“Can you not talk?” Cosima said, her fingers stilling. And with a nod from the other woman, Cosima proceeded, willing herself to get lost in the illusion of blonde curls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things happen in a year is the only explanation I have for another long chapter :). Thank you so much again for giving this story a shot - especially now when things are about to be dicey. Please don't hesitate to tell me what you like, didn't like and what do you want to see as the story moves to another year come the next chapter. :)
> 
> Much thanks to Corsan as always and please stay well and safe!


	7. August 6, 2010

It had been almost seven months since Delphine smoked a cigarette.

She quit cold turkey, grabbing the packs of Gauloises Blondes stowed in her car, bags, and closet to flush them all down in the toilet. She saved one stick from the purge for a proper goodbye - on a quiet night in the Emeryville apartment with only a glass of red wine and the last cigarette for company. She had to light it with the long nozzle igniter that Sarah usually used for barbecues, having already gifted her old but trusty brushed Dupont lighter to Felix - who promised to take care of it the best way he knew how. She had been focused on kicking the habit every day since that last fix no matter how demanding university or Dyad was of her time and intellect, no matter how things kept changing around her.

Her resolve was strong, her determination steely. But there was one chink in the armor: for some reason, being stuck in traffic always made Delphine crave for a cigarette.

The realization came without warning three months after quitting when a huge pileup on Bay Bridge turned her usual 20-minute drive home to the longest hour-and-a-half of her life. Beads of cold sweat bloomed on her nape and trickled down her forehead at the sight of the driver in the next car who was huffing and puffing his troubles away. Delphine was so fixated by it that the man thought she was sending him hints, writing down his number on a piece of paper and sticking it to his window. It took tremendous willpower for her not to engage and ask for a stick. 

Since then, traffic equating to smoking became an inconvenient, irritating daily reality that Delphine had to deal with as she shuttled in and out of the Bay for work, school, and for whatever little life she had outside of those spheres. Prevention was key so she planned the best time to leave and drive – staying in the Dyad Lab or in the library to let the rush hour pass by. 

But as Sarah said, accidents could still happen even with meticulous planning and dogged avoidance. And because Delphine wouldn’t smoke, she resorted to internalized road rage to deal with the nicotine withdrawal - filling the confines of the Sidekick with the most colorful swears and insults that her mother tongue afforded her to every car and driver in her line of sight. It worked sometimes.

But there would be no putain, merde, fait chier, sac a foutre, or pute borgne in this car - not with Paul insisting on driving her to the restaurant. As always with Paul, his protective instincts easily kicked in when she said she was going to commute because parking in Presidio Heights would be impossible on a Friday night. Not wanting to argue and wanting to give him some peace of mind, she agreed. And now, as they simmered in bumper to bumper traffic on the 101, all Delphine could do was watch the sea of red in front of her, trying not to think of how the brake lights resembled embers of cigarettes she could have smoked in the past seven months.

“In a cabin near Puget Sound,” she heard her boyfriend say when her concentration was snapped by the buzzing phone on her lap.

“I’ll check my schedule,” Delphine replied, taking a guess that Paul was asking her if they can go on a short trip somewhere near his hometown. She was supposed to visit with him last Christmas but she had to stay in Berkeley. He understood, and Delphine promised that they would go as soon as her schedule freed up.

“We can go on Labor Day weekend,” he added with a soft, reassuring grin which Delphine tried to return - but by the questioning look on his face, she knew it didn’t work. She quickly averted her eyes away from Paul and turned her attention to her phone. 

The message was a photo from Cal showing Sarah asleep on a rocking chair while cradling their baby daughter. It made her snicker - how the picture was in sharp contrast to her memories of living with the brash Brit. She quickly went through her gallery to a photo of her former roommate taken just a little over a year ago: a well-timed shot of Sarah with beer coming out of her nose while holding an overflowing beer bong.

 _And now she’s a mom,_ Delphine thought _._

A week after Sarah told her about the pregnancy, Cal showed up unexpectedly in their shared apartment. Delphine immediately ducked out, knowing that the two needed the space and privacy to figure out what would happen next. When she came back, Cal was gone but Sarah had already made up her mind. She’s keeping the baby with or without Cal’s involvement, and she’s moving back to Toronto to live with Siobhan for an indefinite period of time.

 _“I’m sorry, Frenchie,”_ she remembered Sarah saying, knowing how having the baby would affect Delphine’s living situation. “But you can keep the apartment if you like – I’ll take care of it with the owner. I know you can afford it,” and she could with her stipend and her Dyad paycheck. But it didn’t feel right living alone in a big apartment and Delphine was in no mood to take in a new roommate. Besides, she could save a lot of money if she moved somewhere smaller and closer to either Dyad or Berkeley.

Seven months pregnant, Sarah flew to Toronto in late January, while Delphine lived in the Emeryville apartment as she hunted for a new place. It wasn’t as easy or cheap as she thought it would be – something she wished she knew before she gave her notice to the owner.

“Who was it?” Paul asked.

Delphine went back to Cal’s message to show him the photo. “It’s Cal,” she said with a tight smile. “Sarah looks so peaceful,” she said as she locked the phone, “and content.” She let out a small sigh of relief when traffic began to free up. They’ve been inviting her to come to Toronto to meet the baby for a while now.

“That’s one cute baby,” Paul said, his eyes shifting from Delphine to the road ahead.

“Oui,” Delphine agreed, “the perfect mix of Sarah and Cal.”

“Do you like kids?” Paul asked - a question that confused Delphine because as far as she could tell, he already knew the answer to it.

“Yes,” she still chose to answer out of politeness, remembering how much she gushed when Jérémie introduced his newborn daughter, Louise, over Skype a couple of months ago. Paul, who was spending the night at her apartment, peeked at the screen every once in a while as she made funny faces to amuse her first ever niece.

“Do you see kids in your future?” He asked as they reached another gridlock - this time along Central Freeway.

And in Delphine’s eyes, Paul began to look like a giant, talking cigarette.

This wasn’t the first time she saw him in this light. He looked exactly like that to her too during the last stretch of the new apartment search - when he offered for her to move in with him instead.

 _“It’ll be practical,”_ he reasoned as he spooned her in bed, pointing out that they’d be splitting living costs by half and that they’d have more time for each other. He laid a kiss on her naked shoulder in an effort to be sweet and convincing.

“It’s too soon,” was all Delphine could say, gripping the arm holding her tight before turning away, hoping that Paul didn’t sense her apprehension. The charade seemed to have worked as Paul consistently brought up his offer in the days that followed. Delphine’s answer remained unchanged, but with only a few weeks to go before the new renters move in, she was starting to reconsider. It would be a temporary living arrangement, she said to convince herself, as the stress of the apartment search reached a fever pitch.

Thankfully, Felix offered her a solution at the last minute.

 _“Guess the name Sarah picked for the baby,”_ Felix said as if he’s gloating even before Delphine could enter his loft and take off her coat.

“I don’t know, ehmm…Rachel?” Delphine guessed halfheartedly. It’s the first name that popped into mind given how she and Sarah spent the last few months of rooming together watching Friends every night.

“Wrong pop culture reference,” Felix said, handing her a glass of wine as he sat beside her in his loveseat. “It’s Kira.”

“From Xanadu?” Delphine almost spilled her drink.

“My hypocritical sister said it’s something Irish in honor of Siobhan, but yes from Xanadu!” Felix said, lifting his glass - a toast to his new niece.

“It’s a nice name,” Delphine reacted, “but is that really why you asked me to come over?”

“Well, it’s not just that,” Felix said, putting his glass down on the window sill. “I need your help with something.”

Delphine took a first sip of the wine Felix offered her, noting that it’s the same expensive chardonnay he gave her years ago to take the edge off before sitting for one of his portraits for the first time. “Judging from the wine it seems like a big favor – or something illegal.” 

“All these years and you still have no faith in me,” Felix said with a snicker. “But it is kind of a big deal. I submitted Mate/Amie for a residency competition before Christmas and I got it!” Mate/Amie was Felix’s years in the making project that featured her and Sarah’s contrasting portraits. “This edgy London art gallery is going to subsidize a studio space for me and they’re featuring the work I produce. I get to cultivate art clients and industry connections for a change, Frenchie!”

“Félicitations,” and this time, Delphine raised her glass to her friend. “And in London, wow!”

“And this is where I need your help,” Felix said. “It’s a six-month residency program that starts in April, but I have to leave by March to set things up. I’m going to be rooming with Kendall, Siobhan’s mum, for the meantime. And if things go really well - and I know they will because I’m awesome - I might get a one-month solo show next year…Which means I’m going to be based in London for a while.”

“I still don’t understand where I come into this,” Delphine said, topping up her empty glass of wine.

“And you call yourself a future double doctor,” Felix said with a laugh. “I need you to keep the loft warm for me.”

Her eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”

“Oui, oui, oui, Frenchie,” he said, giving her a playful wink. “So, are you in?”

She couldn’t say yes to Felix fast enough then. She wished she had even a sliver of decisiveness now as Paul’s question continued to hang in the air.

“Oui,” Delphine answered, rubbing her clammy palms on her slacks. “Not in the immediate future, but in the future, yes, I’d like to have children. But it’s not a deal breaker for me.” She internally chastised herself for adding another detail to her answer, which gave Paul an opening to ask his real question.

“So if I don’t want to have kids,” Paul started to say, “that’ll be fine with you?” The way she tiredly rubbed her eyes didn’t fly over her boyfriend’s head which made him wince. “I can’t seem to say anything right these days, can I?” He muttered.

“I’m sorry,” and feeling guilty, Delphine reached out to hold Paul’s hand that’s resting on the gear shift. “Look, if you don’t want me to go tonight…”

“No,” Paul shook his head, “you should go. I know you want to...And it’s too late for us to turn back anyway,” he said, quickly pointing to the San Francisco City Hall when the light turned from red to green.

“Or if you want to join us…” She offered, silently hoping he’d decline.

“What? Cosima ignoring me, and you forgetting that I exist? No, thank you,” and Paul sarcastically smirked.

“It won’t be like that,” Delphine said. “It was never like that.”

“Yes it will be,” Paul replied, “Cosima doesn’t like me very much.”

“She just has a lot on her plate,” Delphine said, “with her very demanding work schedule…and with Gene gone.”

“I know,” and Paul put the car in neutral while stuck in another traffic light. “I was there at the funeral.”

“It’s been hard for her,” Delphine said, looking out the window to hide her concern. It was a huge understatement because she knew Cosima’s devastated. She wanted nothing more but to be by the Niehaus’ side when Gene’s health got worse over the holidays. She spent the entire Christmas break with Cosima in her parents’ house, with the dreadlocked brunette sleeping on a mattress by Gene’s bed and Delphine using the futon in Sally’s home office. She was tossing and turning after a somber New Year’s Eve dinner when she heard soft knocks on the door of the detached studio.

 _“Can I sleep here tonight?”_ Cosima asked - the brokenness evident in her eyes and voice. Delphine quickly agreed and Cosima lay down on the makeshift bed. She sobbed and all Delphine could do was wrap a blanket around them before holding Cosima in her arms, hoping that the gesture could take even a pinch of the brunette’s pain and sadness. When she finally stopped shivering and fell asleep, Delphine placed a kiss on Cosima’s forehead. A few days passed before Gene died. It was the last time she spent a considerable amount of time with the dreadlocked brunette.

“Which is why you should go,” Paul said as he turned left before making a right turn. “How are you gonna get home? I’m assuming Cosima is going to give you a ride.”

“I’ll probably grab a cab,” Delphine said. She wished Cosima was leaving her car at home given her acquired fondness for hard alcohol.

“Or I can pick you up?” Paul countered - his Richmond apartment is only 10 minutes from the restaurant Cosima chose for tonight. “And drive you back to the loft,” he parked right in front of the restaurant. “Just say the word,” he said before leaning to give her a kiss.

“I’ll manage,” Delphine said, closing the distance between their lips before unbuckling her seatbelt.

“I hope to see you later,” were his last words before Delphine closed the door, waving goodbye as he drove off. She hurriedly walked to the entrance, not wanting to catch a tempting whiff of the smoking section outside the restaurant. Remembering the promise she made to herself to never touch another stick of cigarette ever again after watching Gene suffer for months fighting for breath.

\-----

Cosima downed her third bottled frappuccino by the time filming ended for the day. The drinks made her both loose and sharp, enough to ensure that the post-production team would have more than enough footage not only for an upcoming episode but also for experiment outtakes that proved popular online.

Checking the time in her phone, she saw that she had enough time to drive back home for a shower and a change of clothes so she could at least look put together for Delphine. Knowing the blonde, she’d probably be at the restaurant a good 30 minutes ahead of schedule and if Cosima could get there early, there’s a chance that the dinner would be over early too, giving her time to hit a couple of bars after - maybe a stop at Double Dutch, then a nightcap at The Stud. She’d ask Delphine to come, it's a Friday night after all and maybe she didn't have class the next day.

But the blonde would probably decline and her presence didn’t matter anyway, Cosima told herself as she packed up her things in the dressing room. And there would be plenty of other people hot and ready to party at a snap of her finger - people who wouldn’t look worried every time she orders a drink; people who won’t keep checking the time, as if willing the minutes to roll by so they could finally go home to their boyfriends’ waiting arms. 

_Yes, Delphine doesn't matter_ , Cosima thought, convincing herself that it's true. Sometimes, she believed it, but the thought always drove her to drink. She hurriedly left her dressing room but not without going for the last spiked frappuccino inside her small fridge.

As she was about to exit the studio, one of their show’s writers struck a conversation with her about an upcoming Indiana Jones special episode. She was talking about the possibility of using Indy’s actual whip when a production assistant handed her a note. 

“ _Meeting in 15 minutes,_ ” it said, with the PA timidly explaining to Cosima that it came from upstairs. 

She quickly walked and knocked on another dressing room where Brian, one of her co-hosts, was clutching an identical piece of paper. She sighed as he walked a few steps behind her to go to the surprise meeting. Their other co-host, Jessie, was already inside the conference room, pausing the nervous drumming of his fingers on the long table when they entered.

“What do you think this is about?” Cosima asked as she pulled up a chair. She was relieved when her cast mates were also roped into the same meeting, worrying that it would be a repeat of the one she was in with the producers-slash-main hosts, her agent, and a network executive only three months ago.

“ _This is not appropriate,_ ” the network executive said through gritted teeth as he plopped printed articles from a popular gossip site on the table, showing Cosima in various states of drunkenness inside and outside a bar.

“We were just blowing off steam,” Cosima replied, explaining to the stern-looking network exec that she opened a tab for Hypothesis’ staff and crew in a bar near the studio to celebrate the season wrap-up.

“And this?” He continued his inquisition, pointing to a photo of Cosima flanked by two attractive women, “is it also your way of blowing off some steam?”

Apart from Cosima’s face that had gone a deep shade of red from having way too many cocktails, there was really nothing wrong with the photo from the shoulders up. But she was photographed holding a fresh glass of drink on one hand…while her other hand groped the happily drunk woman to her right. She looked at the timestamp - 12:07 a.m. It was taken shortly after Delphine said goodbye and left the bar with Paul, which made Cosima down a few more drinks at the thought of what they could be doing when they got home.

“It was consensual if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Alison Hendrix – her agent, dryly said while smoothing an imaginary wrinkle on her dark blue blazer. Cosima could barely hide her scorn at the way her agent chose to defend her, but she wasn’t really surprised because it was the first thing she asked her when the photos came out. And it was 100% consensual - Cosima even went home with the woman that night where they each consented to fuck until they passed out.

“We love your work, Cosima…” Joel, one of the show’s main hosts, said.

“You bring something fresh, something accessible, and something adventurous to the table all the time. You’re a fan favorite for a reason…” Hugh, the other main host, added.

“But no one here is indispensable,” the network exec drove the dagger home as he stroked his full salt and pepper beard.

“We get the message, gentlemen,” Alison said, not a hair in her bangs out of place even if the meeting hard turned for the worse. “Trust that it will never happen again,” and as soon as her agent promised that, the executive eyed Cosima warily - unconvinced about her ability to toe the line.

“Maybe it has something to do with the insurance claim?” Brian guessed. There was a minor accident on set a week ago when an experiment involving a lava lamp and a hot stove resulted in a small, wayward shard of glass lodging itself on a prop man's leg. 

“I don’t know,” Jessie said. “But I don’t think it’s a cancellation.” Now in its fourth season, Hypothesis continued to get generally favorable ratings, but there had been small dips here and there compared to last year’s numbers.

Cosima quickly fired a message to Alison, asking her if she knew something about the surprise meeting. The silence from her agent’s end proved to be frustrating, until her phone vibrated just as the main hosts and other producers entered the conference room.

“ _New blood,_ ” Alison’s reply said.

“As you know,” Hugh said to start the meeting, “we have been looking at ways to diversify our show for quite some time now.” Cosima noticed the PA from before joining the meeting to set up the LED projector and a laptop. “And this is how we’re going to do it.”

The lights dimmed and all eyes were on the screen as the huge face of a perky blonde emerged. “ _Hey guys, I’m Krystal,_ ” the Valley Girl said before posing and pouting for the cameras with her friend - whose name Cosima didn’t catch. “ _Welcome back to our channel,_ ” she drawled on. For a minute, she talked about how fun it was for them to get subscribers who can’t speak English and how their YouTube channel was all about exposing the lies of “big cosmetics.”

“ _Speaking of celebrating, today we’re gonna show you how to do this incredible, hot, sexy, effortless party look,_ ” Krystal said, overemphasizing on saying every adjective as she ran her hands on her own curly tresses which she styled using only the “ _cute, colorful bendy straws_ ” twirled all over her friend’s hair. 

Cosima wondered where the video was going until Krystal began uncurling the straws. The confusion in the room was replaced with raucous laughter as they watched both women freak out on camera when the straws came out along with rolls and rolls of the other woman’s hair.

“Don’t tell me you’re doing this to me to diversify our show?” Cosima joked while she twirled one of her dreads around a finger. 

"We can totally recreate that experiment with Cos' hair," Jessie joked.

“Tempting, but no,” Hugh said with a laugh, taking a seat at the head of the table. “This video was uploaded last week and it immediately went viral.”

“It has 4 million views and counting,” Joel added.

“So we’re getting her,” and Hugh pointed at Krystal’s paused image mid-scream while clutching on a yellow hairy, bendy straw, “to be a co-host.”

“Does she have a science background?” Brian - whose background is engineering and robotics – asked.

“No,” Joel answered, “she’s a manicurist from L.A. But we thought that the show needs a layman’s perspective.”

“A host who’s also an onlooker, an audience member - to make the science more accessible,” Hugh added. “She’s going to appear on the Indiana Jones episode and she’d recur starting in the middle of this season.” And as the other producers began to discuss how Krystal’s going to be introduced in the show and what she would be doing during experiments, Cosima fished for her phone to discreetly reply to her agent.

“ _Should I be worried?_ ” She began to type. “ _Am I being eased out?_ ” She wanted to desperately add, choosing not to as she sent the message. Cosima did not even notice the time and how late she'd be for dinner.

\-----

The night called for champagne, Delphine thought as she helped herself with the complimentary appetizers and drank her glass of water. It took longer than she expected but a week ago, she finally finished the first draft of her dissertation.

While she was originally set on doing a study on the role of iPSCs in lung repair and regeneration, Gene’s passing paved a new direction for her dissertation. She figured that instead of rattling on about how iPSCs _improved_ Gene’s quality of life for nearly two years, she should focus her study on how iPSCs could be fundamentally improved - enough for it to be a safe and sustainable treatment plan for unidentified polyps that could grow in any part of the human body.

Even with FDA approval, one of the main risks of using iPSCs to treat Gene’s lung polyps was the possibility of the treatment exacerbating the growths due to residual immature cells in the experimental iPSC product. For a while, as lung scan after lung scan turned out promising, they thought they were in for a major medical breakthrough. Delphine could admit that she got caught up with the initial success – especially when she saw how happy Cosima was when Gene was getting better.

She made the mistake of not trusting her instincts, of not pushing for complete scans when she knew that the initial results were too good to be true. It didn’t help that Leekie wouldn’t hear any of it, with him too focused on harping about the treatment’s perceived success to get more funding for Dyad. By the time they realized and diagnosed that the tumors had spread and grown outside Gene’s lungs, they were too late. To cover his ass, Leekie recommended cyclophosphamide to treat the other growths.

“ _What do you think?_ ” Gene asked her after the second cyclophosphamide cycle while they mindlessly watched an old Cary Grant film. “And be honest and blunt.” 

“I think it’s what’s going to kill you,” Delphine said. Minutes ago, Gene just recovered from a blood-tinged coughing fit and he was clutching on to the oxygen mask for dear life. “If I were in charge, I wouldn’t let you endure that kind of senseless suffering.”

“You’d be an excellent healer someday,” Gene whispered. 

“I don’t know about that,” and Delphine averted her eyes from Gene. “I’m failing you.” She barely caught herself from saying that she’s failing Cosima too.

“You’re already good,” and Gene weakly reached out to hold her hand. “And with time, you’ll save someone from this. I know it.”

“Still I wish it was you,” Delphine added, wondering if she had the emotional strength to tell Cosima about Gene’s prospects with or without the cyclophosphamide treatment.

Fuelled by criminal amounts of coffee and memories of Gene, Delphine revised her dissertation to focus on developing a viable design for tumorigenicity tests for iPSC-derived cell products. She could only wish to focus on it in the future - to make it her life’s work, in the hopes that the next person to use the treatment would have a better fighting chance at survival and cure. It’s the only way she could think of to make sense out of what happened with Gene. 

In the days after finishing it, Delphine had printed a copy but she had yet to submit the finished draft for comments and revisions. She chose to relish the thought of complete but fleeting ownership for a few more days, knowing that whether she liked it or not, Leekie would have a hand in it. 

Which was why telling Cosima about the dissertation and celebrating it together were important. If there’s anyone in this world that could stake a claim on her work, it would be Cosima - and Delphine would gladly give it to her. She was the first person she called when she encoded the last pieces of the appendix in the document. It was 2 a.m., but Cosima sounded excited for her - or at least that’s what Delphine would like to think. It was quite hard to hear the dreadlocked brunette amidst the booming bass tones on her end of the line.

She was looking at the restaurant’s wine and spirits selection, immediately recognizing the same brand of champagne she drank alone on the night she found out that she passed her classifying national tests during the last stages of med school. Delphine called for the waiter and immediately ordered a half bottle, excited to tell Cosima the story behind the champagne choice.

“Would you like for me to open it now?” The server said to her 40 minutes into her wait. She lightly shook her head, preferring to wait some more for Cosima - who said she got tied up in an unexpected meeting.

The doubts began to creep in with each passing minute of waiting. It overshadowed Delphine’s excitement and anticipation at finally seeing Cosima – in actually being together in a place where they wouldn’t have to shout to hear each other. Normally, meeting up with the American was the easiest thing in the world. Delphine always looked forward to it – to the sight of Cosima’s confident grin; to her habit of gesticulating wildly and talking excitedly; to the small, accidental touches of their hands and bodies; to the warmth of her embrace; and to the simplicity of just sitting together.

But things had changed – they had been changing for quite some time now, even before Gene’s death. They haven’t seen each other for over three months, and while they’ve gone through longer periods of not seeing each other, there’s always some communication present: letters, long email threads, and postcards with quirky photos of Cosima standing next to a street food cart or jumping from a waterfall.

There was nothing of that sort this time, just a few curt replies and quick “I can’t talk right now” or “I’ll call you back” whenever she called. She was actually surprised that Cosima agreed to go out with her on a Friday night, knowing that she’d rather hit a club instead of sitting down for a quiet meal.

Her phone beeped with another message. “ _Finally on my way, sorry. Be there in 15 minutes._ ” Delphine replied, telling Cosima not to worry and hurry, to just get to her in one piece. She asked the waiter to open their champagne and as the drinks were poured, she couldn’t help but wish that Cosima Niehaus - the girl she drinks root beer floats with - would be the one showing up for dinner. Not Cosima Niehaus – the TV star.

She couldn’t help but remain hopeful as the seating hostess finally escorted Cosima to their table.

“So sorry,” Cosima said as she went for a quick kiss on her cheek that didn’t even linger a bit. “This day has been long and crazy,” and she sat but not before ordering a vodka tonic from their waiter. “It’s been too long, Del,” she said with the familiar smile that Delphine always thought about when she pictured Cosima. “I don’t know about you, but I need to have some fun tonight, can we have fun, please?”

Cosima’s drink arrived and Delphine was about to raise her champagne flute for a toast, a kick off to a fun night together, when her friend’s phone began to obnoxiously ring.

“Oh crap! This is work,” Cosima said. “Look, I’ll be two seconds,” and she got up from the table with her drink to take the call, not even waiting for Delphine to react.

In the 20 minutes or so that Cosima left her alone at the table, Delphine easily figured out that the person she’s about to have dinner with was TV star Cosima. Her heart sank at the thought, realizing how much she missed the old Cosima who brought her to taquerias and took her to Tahoe. The Old Cosima who thought the world of her, much in the same way she thought the world of Cosima.

“That was my agent,” she curtly explained, returning to the table and immediately finishing her drink, completely ignoring the flute of champagne poured for her.

“What was it about?” Delphine said. She might as well take what she could get out of the rare quiet night with a relatively sober Cosima.

“They’re adding a new co-host,” and Cosima easily downed her glass, “some blonde bimbo who’s sort of an overnight YouTube sensation. Anyway, you wouldn’t understand so don’t worry about that.” Cosima lifted her glass signaling their waiter for a refill. “How is Monsieur Beefcake these days?”

“Paul is fine,” and Delphine sipped her drink. “We both are, I guess.”

“Are you still very much in love?” Cosima asked, the condescension and sting in her voice were quite obvious to Delphine.

“Well, he can bench press you and me combined…I am only flesh and blood,” Delphine tried to joke which only elicited a small, forced smile from Cosima. “I don’t know,” her tone grew more serious, “These days, we don’t seem to…”

“And the apartment?” Cosima cut her off as her drink and their first course was set on their table. “How is that going?”

“Ehm,” and Delphine raised her brows in confusion, “Felix’s apartment?” Cosima nodded. “It’s fine,” she said and Delphine could feel the forced smile forming on her face. “I still don’t know how you were able to make a productive hydroponics marijuana garden in that small room under the loft stairs.” She tried steering the conversation to something light and funny. “You know, some of his other clients still knock on the door,” but she got nothing but an unaffected shrug from Cosima. “Maybe you should come and visit, I can cook us something,” Delphine added.

“Sure,” and Cosima began to twiddle with her phone, “might as well do that while we still can - before you eventually move in with the beefcake.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she muttered before taking a bite of her halibut. “As I was saying earlier -” and Delphine looked up from her plate to see Cosima’s gaze shifting from her meal to something else. Someone else, Delphine realized, when she followed the direction of Cosima’s stare to a redheaded woman a few tables behind them. 

“I’m sorry,” Delphine said, unable to hide her annoyance anymore, “maybe she can join us?”

“Hey, hey,” Cosima said, almost apologetic and soothing, “I’m here to see you, remember?” And she reached out to touch Delphine’s hand, only to take them back quickly. “Okay, what’s new with you aside from finishing the diss?”

It was a half-assed attempt at a do-over but Delphine still took the bait. “I’ve been offered to teach at Cal after my degree,” she said. “It’s nothing big, just an adjunct post, but I’m very excited and I get to teach while working in Dyad…”

Delphine stopped talking when she saw Cosima – who was resting her elbows on the table, her chin cupped in her hands, the boredom evident in her stare. Not only was she bored, she was unimpressed. In anger and frustration, Delphine slammed the napkin and her utensils on the table.

“What?”

“If you’re not interested,” Delphine said, opening her purse to pay for half the bill, “don’t ask.”

“I am interested,” Cosima retorted. “It’s just that…”

“It’s just that what?” Delphine asked - as if challenging the brunette to say something that would stop her from abruptly ending dinner. “What?”

“Honestly, I just thought you were going to be at the forefront of immunology by now, you know,” Cosima said, pushing her glasses back up. “Well, not at the forefront, but at least working towards becoming more than just Leekie’s obedient lab servant. I thought after your PhD, you’d be running your own lab, doing your own research, cutting the problem from the source and working on actually curing diseases.”

“I work for Leekie on your behalf,” her icy tone caught Cosima off-guard. “And one day, I will be at the forefront of cutting edge medicine and research,” Delphine laced her words with faux confidence. “But I have to pay my dues in the lab first. I need to get as much experience as I can. And if you just wouldn’t blow me off for some random girl or a bottle of Grey Goose anytime I try to speak to you, you would have known that I actually enjoy teaching. I’m rather good at it.”

“I’m sure you are,” Cosima patronized. “Still you know what they say…”

“Non, what do they say?” Delphine knew that the words Cosima were about to say were going to hurt, yet she still wanted to hear it straight from her lips. There was after all still a little bit of hope left in her that Cosima would never hurt her - at least not on purpose.

“You know,” and Cosima drank the rest of her second drink, “those who can…” Cosima looked at Delphine as if she wanted her to finish the sentence for her.

“Sorry, I’m French,” she said, the faint hope quickly dissipating. “I’m not familiar with English sayings. So finish the sentence, please.”

“All right,” Cosima said, straightening up in her seat, “those who can, do. And those who can’t, teach.”

Delphine was fighting the tears that were already threatening to fall from her eyes but Cosima’s next unexpected words pushed them over the edge.

“You failed with Dad’s iPSC treatment and now, not only did you get a killer diss out of it, you get to teach about it. You’re going to get paid some more for failing. No harm, no foul. Yay for you.”

“Go fuck yourself, Cosima,” and Delphine dropped a couple of hundred bills on the table before storming out of the restaurant wracked with tears and sobs.

\-----

Cosima knew she was provoking Delphine, she just didn’t know what monster inside her pushed her to do it. And as she watched her take off, she thought of how simple it would be if she could blame it all on the alcohol. It would be the most convenient excuse – the few drinks here and there that get her through the day made her impulsive, made her lash out.

It was the vodka talking. She didn’t mean it.

Maybe it could be that simple.

But it wasn’t that simple, she thought, as the initial shock of Delphine walking out wore off. Cosima knew that it was never that simple with Delphine - how all the love she has for her had mixed with memories of Gene getting better before ultimately circling down the drain.

Still, she stood up to run after her.

Yes it was never simple with Delphine, but Cosima knew that she didn’t want to lose her.

It’s as simple as that. 

Her inebriated brain guessed that the blonde would be walking towards the direction of her apartment. But aside from a slight sense of direction, her mind also conjured thoughts usually reserved on rare nights spent alone.

_You can’t lose what you never had._

_Paul’s different from Steve and all the other guys she dated before because they’re actually building a future together._

_You should have kissed her that night in Tahoe._

_But you didn’t._

_And you went from the corners of possibilities to the realms of nothing._

_Serves you right…_

Running as fast as she could, Cosima finally caught a glimpse of Delphine. She knew she came straight from work, judging by her outfit: black slacks, heeled boots, and a simple gray blouse that’s completely buttoned up. She remembered how perfectly coiffed her hair was when she arrived – in stark contrast to the sight of blonde curls getting away from its secure bun. 

“Delphine!” And Cosima continued chasing after her.

“Delphine!” She said again in between ragged breaths.

“Del! Come on!”

She didn’t expect Delphine to stop, but she did. From a short distance, she could see the Frenchwoman’s trembling shoulders. “Look, I’m sorry for the things I said,” and she finally turned around to face her, hazel eyes splotchy with tears. “I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink,” Cosima spat out, deciding to throw vodka under the bus.

“No, you’re drunk!” Delphine furiously said between sobs. “You’re always drunk! Do you even realize that I have literally not seen you sober for more than a year now?! That for more than a year now, you’ve been banging anything that has a skirt on?! And I’m so tired of it.”

“I’m just trying to have fun,” Cosima reasoned, she didn’t expect her voice to be so small and tentative. “I’ve been through a lot recently,” she might as well use the Dead Dad card. “And sure, I might get a bit carried away, but if only you would stop mothering me and getting at me…”

“Am I?” Delphine said, her tears now freely flowing, “I don’t mean to…And I know that you’ve been through a lot with your Dad and all. I know. I was there. But there are things that I needed to talk to you about too,” and Delphine took a deep, shuddered breath that made Cosima’s heart wrench even more than humanly possible. “About how Leekie had been trying to corner me every chance he gets. About how everything is changing and how that scares me. About how I’m stuck in this relationship with a man that I’m not in love with. And if I can’t talk to you, then what’s the point of you? What’s the point of us?”

“What do you mean ‘ _what’s the point of us?’_ ” Cosima said, not realizing that she’s wiping tears of her own.

Delphine stared at the ground, and Cosima wondered if she’s avoiding looking at her so she could find it in her to say whatever it was that she needed to say. “I think we’ve outgrown each other,” she said.

“That’s not true…” Cosima whispered, willing the words away by shaking her head.

“No, you have outgrown me,” Delphine said. “You think I’m nothing but a boring - what is that term you used - lab servant. And to top it all off, you resent me for Gene - for trying to save his life. And failing…”

“That’s not true, Delphine.” She’d kill to take it all back.

“I think if it’s over,” and Delphine finally looked Cosima in the eye, “then we should just face facts. Say goodbye.”

Cosima couldn’t help but inappropriately smirk amidst her tears. “It sounds like you’re dumping me,” she said, taking Delphine by surprise as she reached out to hold her hand. It was a gamble of a reaction, but it seemed to have paid off as Cosima felt Delphine softening to her touch.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Delphine murmured, watching Cosima’s fingers locking with hers. “You’re not who you used to be.”

“Come on, Countess,” and Cosima pulled her in for a hug. Maybe an embrace would remind Delphine of what they used to be. Maybe the memory would wash away the ugliness of this evening. “Look, I apologize,” she added, coasting a kiss on Delphine’s neck while running her palms on her back. “Please…”

Cosima let out a sigh of relief when Delphine held on to her tight and kissed her cheek, only for her to gently pull away so she could cup Cosima’s face in her palms.

“Cosima…”

“Delphine?”

And Delphine captured her lips in a tear-tinged kiss. Her lips were as soft and as sweet as she remembered them, even if she’d been trying to forget. Cosima was about to follow her instincts, to deepen the kiss and screw the consequences. She leaned forward only for Delphine to stop her.

“Je t’aime… So much…” She whispered before completely pulling away from Cosima’s grasp. “But I...I just don’t like you anymore.” Delphine placed a hand to muffle her sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

Cosima didn’t know how long she stayed there, but she remembered watching Delphine run away from her until she completely disappeared from view. “I love you so much too,” she replied to no one - weeping and feeling as if a part of her had died. It’s a feeling she had become familiar with in the days between her father’s diagnosis and death. She thought that she’d get accustomed to it by now, but it always left her broken. It wasn’t long until people began taking notice, urging Cosima to quickly get her car from the restaurant’s valet and drive as fast as she could to escape the realms of nothing she found herself stuck in.

And just when Cosima thought she’d had enough heartbreak to last her for years, the package by her apartment’s doorstep made her come to terms with the weight of what she had lost tonight. 

She didn’t know if Delphine brought it here before their dinner, but she quickly riffled through the pages of the dissertation as she entered her apartment. She meant to check the supplementary information containing her dad’s lab results and figures, when she saw it – in the page between the abstract and acknowledgments.

 _To Gene, for all the good you did,_ the dedication said. And on the same page was a blue post-it with Delphine’s unmistakable loopy handwriting.

_This is as much yours as it is mine for I couldn’t have done it without you._

_Yours always,_

_Countess_

“Serves me right,” Cosima uttered to the empty apartment, trading the bundle of papers for a bottle of vodka and a clean glass. She poured and drank, poured and drank, muttering “Delphine doesn’t matter” with every swig and every refill - waiting for the alcohol to kick in and make her believe that Delphine doesn’t matter, never mattered to her. 

And when the last drop of vodka made its way to the glass, Cosima wondered amidst tears if there’s anything in this world that can numb the pain of losing her father and of losing Delphine all in the same year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everybody who's still giving this story a shot :). Don't hesitate to let me know what you think of it. Much thanks to Corsan as always :), and also to Lana_Maundrell for the direction. Take care and talk soon!


	8. August 6, 2011

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for sexual harassment in the work place (implied and not fully described) and another trigger warning for potentially bad writing because I wrote a chunk of this chapter on a very upset stomach (acid reflux is no joke).

Delphine had lived, studied, and worked in and near the Bay Area for years now, but today was only the second time she stepped foot on the piers and attractions along the Embarcadero. Had she not driven along the boulevard streets in the morning before today’s excursion, she was sure she’d get lost trying to find a cheap parking spot on a Saturday. Her lack of knowledge of San Francisco tourist spots was either a testament to how busy and fast-paced her life had been in the last five years; or a testament to how much fun she’s missing as Felix and Sarah used to always point out.

But it’s quieter now, with Sarah in Toronto falling in love with motherhood and with Felix finally owning up to his artistic potential in London. It’s a quiet that she had learned not to take too personally, probably because she had unconsciously prepared for it. She couldn’t be Sarah’s roommate forever, and it’s only natural for her ties with Felix to weaken when their housing arrangement ends. It’s the same with peers and classmates in Berkeley, in med school, in university, in lycée - different faces met in different times but all following the same strain, the same path. It’s nothing new, she shouldn’t be bothered by it, but the entire concept of moving on had been on her mind more often than she’d like to admit. 

And as she watched the comings and goings of ferries from a short distance, Delphine’s reminded of how fleeting people and things could be. How naïve she was to envision someone to stay in her life for five, ten years – maybe even for the rest of her life.

“You look like you can use a bag of these,” the familiar voice said, taking the seat next to her.

“Merci,” Delphine couldn’t help but smile amidst her less than cheerful thoughts when presented with a bag of  _ roses des sables _ by the one person she knew she couldn’t shake off from her life, no matter the distance. She took one in her hand and took a bite, the cornflake crisp and the chocolate heavenly.

“Vous vous êtes amusé?” She then asked, childishly licking melted milk chocolate off her fingers.

“Yes,” Jérémie said, gleefully popping chocolate-covered cornflakes in his mouth. “I bought lots of toys for Louise. But I’m serious, Delphine,” her brother said - fingers combing short, dark brown hair, “while in the States I want to practice my English. Carine only speaks French and Thai. And now that most volunteers are Europeans, I never get to speak it a lot at work too."

There was so much about her brother that Delphine only knew in principle. She knew he got married but had never met Carine in person. From the short video calls and phone conversations, she could tell that she’s intelligent, beautiful, and obviously someone who makes her brother happy. She didn’t know much about how they met – just that Carine worked as a freelance photographer for one of the foundation’s funders and they met when she visited to document their projects. Delphine had only seen Louise grow up through a laptop screen, their only interaction outside Skype were the small gifts she sent for special occasions and the cards Jérémie e-mailed.

“Okay,” Delphine said, taking another mouthful of her favorite childhood snack, “whatever you want.” She didn’t know how much she missed her older brother until she saw him in the airport, flying straight to San Francisco from a conference in New York. Seeing him with his bags slung over a suit made her remember the last time she saw him in the flesh – in another airport a continent and an ocean away almost nine years ago.

He was younger then: the crumpled suit paired with low-cut black Chucks instead of brown leather shoes; a clean-shaven face instead of a full but well-groomed beard; string bracelets in varying colors around his left wrist instead of a black dress watch; a few kilograms lighter; a face with fewer lines; even his dark brown eyes looked different. But as Delphine watched Jérémie search for her in the crowd, she swore that he still wore the same smile - a grin that starts off as self-assured before it gradually transforms into a determined look. The kind of smile one only gave out when they feel in their bones that they’re doing the right thing.

Delphine was younger then too, years away from finishing her medical degree and training. When he finally found her at the airport, she wondered as he walked towards her with that same smile from years ago how much she’d change. If her change was for the better or if the changes were merely cosmetic - to keep up appearances of moving on and not stagnating. 

“I was actually surprised that you decided to visit me instead of flying to Paris to visit the parents. They did offer to pay for your tickets.”

“Well, I like seeing you more than seeing them,” and Jérémie shrugged, fishing for a cigarette only for Delphine to remind him that he couldn’t smoke here. Some things never really change, she thought - their parents and their wealth were still a sore topic for her brother. 

“I can see why you quit smoking when you moved here then,” he said with a grin as he returned the stick inside the pack. “So how are they?”

“They’re fine,” and Delphine gave her brother a tight smile. “You know, I brought them to Baker Beach and Crissy Field too when they were here for my graduation.”

Jérémie chuckled at that. “In that car of yours?” And he looked at her, begging her to tell the story.

“Ouais,” Delphine said, joining in on the laughter while chewing her snack. Her brother was still laughing but his eyebrows had risen as if finding her story impossible. “It was unplanned,” Delphine continued her story when the giggles subsided. “The day after my graduation, they met up with some of their friends in Woodside for brunch. They were coming back to San Francisco when their town car broke down right before entering the highway. They called me for help.”

Jérémie’s laughter filled the air, making other people in the pier glance at him to see what’s so funny. “I would pay good money to see Maman’s face when you showed up in your car.”

“You should have seen how she squeezed into the backseat,” a reply that made her brother cackle. “I told them to get in or commute.”

“They don’t -” and Jérémie had a hand on his tummy as he laughed, “even ride the Metro back home.”

“Trop bondé et est bruyant!” Delphine said, trying her best Jacqueline Cormier impersonation, which made Jérémie slap his lap as he howled.

“C'est un endroit sale et effrayant!” And Jérémie pretended to be puffing a cigarette while mimicking their father’s voice. “And then what happened?” He asked as he wiped tears of laughter from his dark brown eyes.

“Then they said they wanted to see the tourist sites,” Delphine said, caressing her aching cheeks. “So I brought them to Baker and Crissy Field to see the Golden Gate Bridge. Maman covered her face with her hands the entire time -”

“She probably just got an expensive facial,” Jérémie said, “and the sun is going to ruin her face.”

“And Papa got fined for smoking in public,” Delphine supplied. “He paid so he can continue smoking. At least he threw the butt in a bin. The fine is two weeks’ worth of my groceries.”

“Loose change for them,” and Jérémie let out a sigh. “Do you know how hard it is to raise, no – beg - funds for a small foundation?”

“I do,” she said with a sardonic laugh. Since quitting Dyad before getting her doctorate, Delphine had been applying for grants so she could continue her iPSC tumorigenicity research. She said this to her brother as he emptied his bag of treats.

“So apart from quitting smoking and applying for grants, what else is new with you?”

“I’ve been answering that question for two days now,” Delphine said - and she had been with Jérémie staying over in her apartment instead of checking in at a hotel. She covered the basics the first few times he asked: how she’s set to handle introductory epidemiology and infectious disease courses for Berkeley undergrads, hoping to teach more advanced classes next term; how she’s involved in the Host-Pathogen Mapping Initiative – a collaborative effort of Berkeley, UCSF, and Institut Pasteur; and how UCSF's keen on giving her lab and research space as long as she could secure a grant for the iPSC study.

“Yes,” Jérémie said and he drank his coffee. “But I have no idea how all that happened.” Delphine’s furrowed brows made her brother explain himself more. “Like how did you get involved with the Host-Pathogen initiative? Is it an interest of yours? What happened with MSF?” 

"You sound like an avocat," Delphine quipped. 

She probably also made an annoyed face that made Jérémie say, “I’m sorry I have all these questions. But you’re my kid sister and I haven’t seen you in years.” It made Delphine realize that like her, Jérémie only knew the broad strokes of her life.

“I quit MSF,” Delphine huffed, “because I wanted to do something more substantial.” She spared him the story of how she felt so ineffective back in Haiti. “And the mapping initiative fell on my lap after presenting my dissertation. It wasn’t my primary focus, but the tumorigenicity tests in my dissertation touched on cell mapping. They were impressed, and because I’m French and Institut Pasteur was involved, they recruited me for it. The Institut even helped with my work visa…So there’s a bit of luck and coincidence at play there too.”

“I thought the Dyad…?” He quipped innocently, checking with Delphine if he got the name right, “was going to take care of all that?” 

“Dyad was a means to an end,” Delphine said, “and Dr. Leekie can go to hell.”

She definitely did not want to talk about that - how Leekie demanded her to change huge chunks of her work and data to reflect that iPSC was effective and had minimal risks; that Gene was just too far gone when he came in for experimental treatment.

How when she said no one late night while waiting for traffic to subside, Leekie sneered before pushing her violently into his lab desk.  _ “You’ve said no to me enough! I'm sick of it...Deep down, I know you want it,” _ he said, pinning her down while he unzipped his pants.

How she managed to grab a computer keyboard to smash it on his head.

How somehow, Scott was able to barge in the lab after she kicked Leekie away from her, bleeding from a small gash in his forehead.

How he said he’ll ruin her career.

How she said she’s going to drag his career down with hers.

And then as it turned out, one of the perks of her lineage was having the power to follow through on intimidations and threats.

Even with Scott’s assurance that he has her back whatever happens, Delphine was still convinced that she would no longer have a scientific career in the States after the Leekie incident. She mindlessly came with her parents a few days before her graduation rites to a last-minute invitation to a UC Berkeley banquet for donors and funders. Leekie, who was as usual wooing potential Dyad investors, was surprised that she was there. He tried to keep a straight face when the Dean introduced her parents – who wrote a substantial check for the construction of a new Berkeley building that would house the public health sciences department. Delphine could see how he tried to remain unaffected even if every introductory word was making him realize that the girl who threatened to ruin his career could actually obtain the resources to do it if she wanted to.

Leekie pretty much left her alone after that. Shortly after graduation, the formal offer from Berkeley came in, along with the research position from the Pasteur Institute. She readily accepted and went home to Paris with her parents to tend to her visa. 

Sensing her quiet anger now, Jérémie could only offer her a sympathetic smile. “You should really come to Thailand for a vacation one of these days,” he said, wisely changing the topic. “Take some of the hard edges off. Relax. Maybe even bring that friend of yours...”

“Paul?” But her brother shook his head.

"Who then?" Delphine curiously asked, running the names of her Parisian school friends in her head.

“Your American friend who volunteered in Thailand years ago,” her brother said. “You know, Cosima. How is she?”

At the mention of the brunette's name, Delphine again looked out to the Bay - to the comings and goings of ferries and boats - knowing that moving on was a natural part of life but somehow finding it hard to reconcile it with the faint hope in the recesses of her heart for that particular ship to not yet sail away. 

\-----

The past six weeks were all about establishing new base camps for Cosima: a new bank, a new grocery, a new bookstore, a new library spot, a new weed supplier. She just got home to her new main base camp – her apartment, after trying out a possible new café. The café - the third one she tried out in as many weeks - made her a faultless concoction, with a spot on tea-to-milk ratio and something she couldn't nail down that beautifully complemented the spiciness of the chai. Even before her fourth sip, she knew she had established another new base camp.

Cosima put down her drink on her already cluttered study before taking off her red coat, still getting used to needing to wear one in August. As she settled behind her laptop she took another sip, the drink only heightening the coziness of her leather desk chair. It helped Cosima type a quick, concise, and charming reply. 

She clicked  _ send  _ and slowly swiveled in the chair, taking in her new main space – the kitchenette by the window, the thick eggplant-colored curtains that separated the living area from the sleeping quarters, and the low poster bed and the matching desk that came with the apartment. The entire studio was just about the size of the open living room and kitchen of her previous place. But what it lacked in square footage it made up for with oodles of charm and character. She instinctively knew it would be home when her fingers first traced the patterns of its red flock wallpaper.

Still, it surprised Cosima how fast she acclimated to it, remembering how it took her months to unbox all her possessions when she moved into the sprawling Missions apartment. And she didn’t even have much then – mostly books and school stuff, some clothes and shoes, a few basic home essentials. But here, she unpacked everything the minute the last of her boxes were dropped. She hung the framed periodic table in the space between the headboard, arranged all her clothes in the open clothes rack, put in new bed sheets on the new mattress, and set up her laptop and green-blue lava lamp on the desk. 

And as she busied herself with finding new base camps and putting up her stuff on walls and in shelves these past days, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that this really was a fresh start.

Her eyes landed on the one spot she has yet to organize, the built-in bookshelves that flanked the bedroom’s entrance. She had put up a few framed photos and knick-knacks from her travels, but most of her books were either scattered all over her desk or on the carpeted floor. 

With three solid hours to burn before her lap swim appointment in the nearest RecWell center, Cosima stood up to get the bookshelves up and running. She chose to simply arrange by size, knowing that organization would be replaced by beautiful chaos once classes start. She was making good time until she got to a thick, hardbound book. She held it in her hands, caressed the cover, and traced the title with her fingers.

_ Tumorigenicity Testing and Design for Induced Pluripotent Stem Cell (iPSC)-Derived Products _

_ Dr. Delphine Cormier _

_ University of California, Berkeley _

The chore was easily forgotten as Cosima sat on the floor, clutching the book and easily getting lost in it. It happened every time she laid eyes on Delphine’s dissertation, the blonde’s dedication, intellect, and skills pouring out of every page ensnaring her full attention.

Before getting engrossed in the diss’ general discussion, Cosima took another good look at her new apartment – at her fresh start. And while Delphine always said that she couldn’t have done this study without her, Cosima knew that she couldn’t have made this move if not for Delphine, if not for her dissertation. She had a sad smile as she turned a page, thinking to herself that she didn’t even manage to tell her that – and a whole pile of other words and emotions- in person.

After the last time they saw each other, there was no way to go for Cosima but down the deep end of several bottles of vodka. She didn’t even bother chasing it with sweet coffee, swigging the bottle with wild abandon. Cosima didn’t know how many days had passed until somebody pounded at her door. Drunk and depressed, she desperately wanted the person on the other side of the door to be Delphine.

_ “Holy shit-ake mushrooms, Cosima!” _

But it was Alison who came to her apartment, neurotically worried about her missing days’ worth of Hypothesis filming.

The next thing she knew, she was in bed hooked to a banana bag. She didn’t know who put an IV on her and wondered if Alison was hiding a background on medicine. It wasn’t what she was hiding after all. 

_ “You’ve been drunk for days, I was drunk for years,” _ Alison said, “ _ among other feel-good medications. _ ” From the creases in her blouse and skirt, Cosima could tell that her agent probably napped on her couch while she waited for her to regain some semblance of consciousness and coherence.  _ “I had some help with the IV, now you have to eat something.” _

_ “So you’re going to sober me up then ship me to rehab? That the plan?” _ Cosima slurred as she tried to sit up - a big mistake as she immediately felt the need to hurl.

“ _ Holy doodle, here we go, _ ” and Alison hurriedly grabbed the waste bin in the bedroom. She waited until there was nothing left for Cosima to puke before she left the room to moisten a towel. “ _ Okay, maybe the food can wait. Just rest and please don’t soil your sheets. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow. _ ”

As it turned out, tomorrow started past lunch. And because old habits die hard, Cosima immediately went to her fridge for her usual spiked coffee. She was surprised when there was nothing in it but bottles of water labeled with post-its in varying colors.

_ Drink bottled water, _ a pink one said.

_ I threw out everything else, _ a yellow one said.

_ Vodka, “coffee,” too, _ a blue one said.

“Great, you’re a freakin’ wordsmith, Alison,” Cosima said, begrudgingly grabbing the bottled water labeled  _ Vodka, “coffee,” too. _ She wanted to tell her agent that not only was it not her place to meddle in her personal life, but also that the 5-7-5 haiku format is a myth. “ _ It’s all about the sounds and the directness of the message – not the syllables, bitch,” _ Cosima mumbled in between bitter gulps.

When Alison returned, Cosima expected a sugar-coated talk about the benefits of rehab. How it’s not all that bad. She was surprised when her agent arrived, immediately arranging the groceries and supplies she bought.

“ _ You’re stocking up, _ ” Cosima muttered. “ _ What for? You’re hauling me to Betty Ford anyway. _ ”

“ _ Don’t use that tone with me, Cosima, _ ” Alison glared at her. “ _ I’m the only one standing between you and a very public and humiliating route to rehab. _ ” And in between bites of deli sandwiches, Alison let her in on how she planned to micromanage her life.

“ _ I got you a four-week break from Hypothesis, _ ” she said, “ _ I made something up about your Mom having some sort of emergency in the high seas. _ ”

“ _ She’s in the Galapagos, _ ” Cosima said, shaking her head and hoping that Alison’s lie doesn’t materialize into reality. She never had the warmest relationship with Sally, but she’s not prepared to be an orphan.

“ _ All the more reason why they can’t reach you, _ ” and Alison reached into her pocket where she kept Cosima’s phone. “ _ I’ll hold this in the meantime and your car keys too. _ ” She then slid a pink basic phone on the table. “ _ Nobody has that number and it can only make calls to two numbers – mine and 911. _ ”

“ _ So you’re not dragging me to rehab but you’re going to what, jail me in my own apartment? _ ” Cosima sarcastically quipped.

“ _ In a way, _ ” Alison said nonchalantly. “ _ You’ve already burned a week off your break so you’re going to stay here in your apartment for three weeks. You’re going to sober up and prove to yourself that alcohol doesn’t have that kind of power over you. You need to figure out what you want to do with your life without a lick of alcohol. _ ”

“ _ You know, I can just step out of the building…” _

“ _ Believe me, Cosima, I will know when you leave this apartment, _ ” Alison retorted with raised eyebrows. “ _ Either you agree to this or rehab. _ ”

“ _ And what if I just choose rehab? _ ”

“ _ Then prepare to lose everything – the show, your career, whatever future you had pictured. _ ”

“ _ I’ve already lost everything, _ ” Cosima reacted, dumping the sandwich on her plate.

Alison studied her closely before she spoke again. “ _ Then what do you have left to lose if you follow my plan? _ ”

She didn’t know how Alison knew, but whenever she attempted to step out at night, the pink phone would incessantly ring just as soon as her hand grasped the doorknob.

_ “Rehab, Cosima, Rehab. Stay in your apartment.” _

With Alison hot on her heels not only through phone calls but also via random daily visits to her apartment, Cosima only attempted to leave twice in the first week of her confinement. The first full week without alcohol was a combination of physical and emotional hell. She always nursed a splitting headache - which put all her planned attempts to escape in the backburner. The headache made her vomit and made her sleepless. She spent most nights tossing and turning to find a position that her aching head could tolerate.

But a week later, the headaches subsided. She was hoping to finally get some sleep, but two very different kinds of guilt hung especially heavy on her shoulders that kept her up at night. 

She would close her eyes only to remember New Year’s Eve, the image of a filled-up plate left untouched on the head of the table, clinging to the miracle of Gene breaking free from the connected tubes and wires to celebrate with them. Cosima would hear her own voice, saying the words she uttered that night after dinner as she looked at Gene from where she was laying on the floor.

_ “I’m a fucking scientist for fuck’s sakes. I talk about science every week…And now I’m hoping for a miracle, for divine intervention. Fuck.” _

She’d force her eyes shut, pulling a blanket over her head, and she’d be back at that alley again, seeing Delphine’s eyes and how wet they were with tears. She’d hear her voice - the ghost of a“ _ Je t’aime _ ” - and Cosima remembered how when she looked closely as Delphine fumed, there were still remnants of the way Delphine used to look at her during the first time they met; of when they used to study Gene’s medical charts until the wee hours of the morning, tired but excited to work together for a cure; of the way she looked at her when they were driving home from Tahoe. 

She fell back into the habit of picking up a book every night. She was reading The Island of Dr. Moreau and was right in the throes of The Locked Door chapter when she felt the urge to make tea – the first drink she would have that wasn’t plain water since Alison’s intervention. She went to the kitchen, filling the electric kettle while rummaging for a tea box. It wasn’t where she last remembered it and she was afraid that it didn’t survive Alison’s purge.

Cosima finally found it in the cupboard where the vodkas used to be – being used as a makeshift paperweight for Delphine's dissertation. The book was forgotten as she picked it up, reading it with gusto in between mugs of tea.

As a science show host, Cosima knew that what circulated between the scientists and the layman was, at best, the results: the what instead of the how. And as she devoured every paragraph and every data, she relished the rare opportunity willingly given by Delphine to be taken to the backrooms of immunology, to the kitchens of science. To where knowledge is conceptualized, tested, and formed. She couldn’t believe how Delphine could so willingly share credit for such a scientific gift with her.

It took her less than 10 pages to know that this work easily stood out from the scientific collective. Unlike most immunology dissertations that were based only on theories built through rigorous lab testing and simulations, Delphine’s diss was based on all that and on an actual human medical case - a marriage of theory and practice. The way she discussed cell infusion therapy, the timely assessment of the genetic stability of pluripotent stem cells, her work on cell mapping and the need to assess tumor-forming potentials of non-terminally differentiated cells, proved that not only was Delphine’s ideas theoretically sound, they were highly operational. Her dissertation should be placed not only in library shelves but in everyday life, in the actual practice of medicine. Delphine was at the precipice of a medical and scientific breakthrough – and every page excited Cosima.

She eventually got to the appendices, her eye catching a portion she didn’t know was there – an interview between the researcher and the subject, the study’s lone clinical trial participant. It was mostly medical talk about symptoms, medical history, diet, and medication effects. But in the middle of all that, something personal grabbed Cosima's attention.

_ Researcher D.C.: What are your concerns now that the iPSC trial is finished? _

_ G.N.: You mean what am I afraid of? I’m not afraid to die. I’m scared to leave my wife [identity redacted] behind. I’m scared of leaving my daughter [identity redacted] most especially. _

_ Researcher D.C.: Why that most especially? _

_ G.N.: Because being a parent is like building a boat. She is going to sail away from us eventually… She probably already did (laughter), you know how she gets. When she was born, my life’s work revolved around building a boat sturdy enough that - should she wish or need it, she can sail back to me, to her Mom. To us. I’m afraid I won’t live long enough to finish that homework. _

The tears Cosima cried when she read that passage was different from her drunken tears only a few weeks prior. This time, she cried unabashedly, not even muffling her sobs with her hand. It felt like release, like she's allowing herself to finally acknowledge and mourn her losses.

And while she yearned for a drink when her crying ceased, she continued reading instead, choosing to cling on to Delphine's words and thoughts. And when she finished reading from cover to cover, she read it again. Delphine’s study seemed to have swept the cobwebs in her mind. Her hand ached by her fourth read-through, her notebooks filling up with ideas about how sound biostatistical studies could further operationalize the blonde’s work. She was still clutching a pen when she woke up after a full night’s sleep. Pretty soon, she began writing on the diss itself, making annotations and references to her own notes.

“ _ I’m proud of you, Cosima, _ ” Alison said on the last day of her mandatory confinement.  _ “Now, what do you want to do?” _

She thought it would be hard to answer that - after all, on the surface Cosima lived a charmed life. But Delphine’s dissertation had awoken something in her that made it easy for her to answer Alison’s question.

“ _ I want to finish my homework – my Dad’s project. _ ” Cosima’s answer was met with Alison’s surprise and confusion. “ _ I want to go back to school. Finish my PhD. I think that’s a good way to start. _ ” 

“ _ Okay, then, _ ” and to Cosima’s surprise, Alison didn’t freak out. “ _ I’ll set up the meeting with the Hypothesis people tomorrow. _ ”

“ _ Thank you, _ ” Cosima said before her agent could make a phone call. “ _ I don’t even know why you’re doing this for me. _ ”

Alison nodded, hiding a small smile on her face. “ _ Because you and I, we’re not so different, Cosima. _ ”

Her first day back at work was equal parts interesting and scary. To her surprise, Krystal was not only a quick study but also had the comedic timing their two other co-hosts didn’t have. “ _ I am so happy to work with you, _ ” she said to her in between takes and swears while shooting an episode about testing if cursing could increase a person’s pain threshold. Seeing her work and interact with the Hypothesis team reinforced Cosima’s decision, knowing that the show would not suffer when she leaves. While the main hosts and producers were initially taken aback by her decision, they were eventually supportive and wished her all the best. “ _ We will never stand in the way of knowledge or your personal growth _ ,” they said. She stayed on until the end of filming for the season, with the staff holding an impromptu going-away party for her.

“ _ No alcohol for me, thank you, _ ” she said and Alison looked on proudly. By that time, she had been four months sober and while there were days when she craved for a drink, she reeled the temptation in, instead grabbing Delphine’s dissertation to write more notes on the panels.

She wanted nothing more but to see the Frenchwoman, to apologize for everything she’d said and done. But she wanted to be really ready, to be more herself, when she sees her again. Instead, she talked to Scott and asked him how she’s been.

“ _ She’s okay, Cos. Focused, determined, and invested in the work,”  _ Scott said when she called him around December.  _ “You know you could just talk to her…Unless you two are still in a fight.” _

_ “I want to be better before I do that,”  _ Cosima replied. “ _ To know I deserve her forgiveness you know… _ ”

Scott chuckled inappropriately and said something along the lines of “ _ girl fights are mean, _ ” which made Cosima laugh too.

Now out of Hypothesis, Cosima devoted much of her day finishing up her PhD applications. She considered the idea of just picking up where she left off in Berkeley, but she knew that she needed a change, that she needed to sail away to be really invested in finishing her degree. Come night time, she went back to Delphine’s dissertation, double checking if her notes made sense and scribbling more of her thoughts.

Six weeks later, she received an admission letter from the University of Minnesota, School of Public Health - her transfer had been approved. She studied her prospective course schedules, computing that she could finish her degree in two years on a full load. When she grabbed her phone, she wanted to call a familiar number, to hear the familiar  _ Bonjour  _ on the other end of the line.

But even months after, the guilt of that night was still there - swirling in the pits of her stomach making her afraid. She called her mother instead.

“ _ I just want to tell you that I’m done with the show and that I’m going back to school – in Minnesota, _ ” she said after exchanging pleasantries.

_ “Mom?” _ Cosima thought she lost her, but the voice in the other line sniffled.

“ _ That’s good news, Cos, really good news, _ ” Sally said followed by another pregnant pause. “ _ Dad would be proud. _ ” 

Emboldened by her mother’s reaction, she planned on telling Delphine in person, making sure to bring an unexpected gift as she got her copy of the blonde’s dissertation set and bound. She made a copy for herself too, intending to give the original to her. She called Scott a day before she planned on visiting their lab at Dyad to see Delphine and was shocked at what she heard.

“ _ We don’t work there anymore, _ ” Scott started, filling her in on what happened – how her greatest fear since Delphine started to work for Leekie happened one night. And as Scott told her what he saw, how the blonde fought back, and how Leekie threatened to ruin her career, the guilt that she had been carrying like a backpack filled with bricks became encumbered with a giant boulder.

There’s no way Cosima could face her now, not after what she said, not after what she put her through - how she made Delphine make those hard choices then blamed her for them when things didn't go her way. But she’s not utterly useless, and as she went to Berkeley to iron out her records and transcripts, she set up an appointment with the Dean.

_ “You know, Cormier’s parents are rich,”  _ she said in passing when she asked about the construction of the new Berkeley building where the School of Public Health would be transferring. “ _ And I mean old money, hella rich. I bet you can invite them to that fundraising dinner before graduation and they’ll write you a big, fat check - the first of many.  _ ” When the Dean said he’d invite them, Cosima smirked. She knew Leekie would be there - and maybe if he would have an idea as to who he messed with, he’d realize he’d bitten more than he can chew.

She didn’t know if her little ploy worked, but on the day of Delphine’s graduation, Cosima was there – at the very back of the Greek Theatre with the bound dissertation in her hands. She looked from a distance as Delphine, in full doctoral regalia, graduated with distinction. She wasn’t surprised when she received the award for the best dissertation in her batch. She didn’t know why she chickened out and left before the ceremony was over.

It would take another week for Cosima to muster enough courage to face the blonde, practicing an “ _ I’m an asshole _ ” speech on the way to Felix’s old loft, with the hardbound copy gift-wrapped and resting on the passenger seat of her car. She knocked for an hour, initially convinced that Delphine didn’t want to see her. But one of Felix’s old neighbors who recognized her said that there’s nobody home – that he hadn’t seen Delphine for days.

“ _ She left for France a few days ago, _ ” Scott said when she called him to ask if she knew where Delphine was.  _ “She’s fixing her visa. I think she’ll be back next month.” _

“ _ Then I’m really too late… _ ” She needed to be in Minnesota by June. When Cosima met with Scott after her fruitless visit to the loft, she left her gift to Delphine with him. “ _ Tell her, _ ” and she tried not to cry even if Scott was ready to offer a shoulder to cry on, “ _ I’m sorry and thank you. _ ”

She wanted to say more, but she bit her tongue, thinking that maybe, some things are better left unsaid.

\-----

“Last I heard, she went back to school to finish her doctorate. In Minnesota,” Delphine answered. She was equally proud and devastated when Scott told her that Cosima left San Francisco to pursue her PhD. She didn’t know it was possible for her heart to beam with pride and break at the same time.

“ _ She told me to tell you that she’s sorry and thank you, _ ” as Scott slid a gift wrapped package on the cafeteria table. She was happy to see him working for a respected biotech company, landing on his feet after their tumultuous Dyad stint.

Delphine didn’t open it until she got home. A good decision, she believed, for she cried at the first sight of Cosima’s handwriting all over her dissertation. It felt like an apology, it felt more than that if she was being honest. 

She wanted to reach out, leave a message or a voicemail, but the gift also felt like Cosima's goodbye.

“I didn’t know she pushed through with the volunteer work,” she said to her brother, who was clearing his beard of chocolate.

“Non? I wonder why,” Jérémie said with an amused smile. “No, I know why. This was years ago, but she was very fond of you. And a brother knows, you know.”

“Knows what?” Delphine said, choosing to maintain her gaze on the horizon, suddenly afraid to look at Jérémie.

“When somebody likes their little sister,” he quipped. “If it counts, she was one of the best, most memorable volunteers we’ve ever had. In the three months she spent with us, she taught English to the farmers’ kids, conducted weekly science experiments for them - even held classes in basic bookkeeping to the farmers and their wives.” Jérémie scooted closer and nudged Delphine with his shoulder. “Cosima worked around the field as if you were watching her, as if everything she’s doing is going to reach you.”

“I didn’t know that,” and Delphine looked away, trying to discreetly wipe away unexpected tears.

“You don’t have to hide, Delphy,” and Jérémie slung an arm around her shoulder. “I think she’s wonderful.”

“I’m not hiding,” Delphine said, finally looking at her brother who wiped her tears with his fingers. “It’s just…with us…it’s always bad timing, I guess.”

“But timing like time isn’t permanent,” Jérémie said as he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket. “It changes, it flows, it passes. Today, yes, the timing is bad. But tomorrow, the next month, the next year, it could turn. It could change.” Delphine took the hanky to wipe her eyes, noticing a grin on her brother’s face.

“Don’t worry,” he said, affectionately booping the tip of her nose with his finger, “I’ve had my big brother talk with her too. For when the time is finally right for you and Cosima,” which made Delphine snort in laughter while she cried.

\-----

The phone alarm broke Cosima’s reverie, reminding her that her lap swim appointment is in 10 minutes. The RecWell center was only going to hold her schedule for 15 minutes and she had to hurry. She carefully closed Delphine’s dissertation and stood up from the pile of other books scattered all over the floor. She placed it on the shelf beside her old Berkeley lab goggles, giving it one more affectionate caress before packing a bag filled with her swimsuit and a change of clothes.

She traded the Audi for a Vespa even if she knew she wouldn’t be able to use it during winter. The RecWell center was only a good 10 minutes away from her apartment and as much as she wanted to renege on her appointment – to just stay at home and get lost in Delphine’s gift - she wanted to see if the recreation center can also be her new base camp.

She arrived with time to spare, parking the scooter, lugging her backpack and her helmet as she made her way to the locker room for a quick change. Cosima donned a simple one-piece black swimsuit as she checked in with the student attendant assigned to the deep pool.

She stretched, took a deep breath, and dove right in, working her muscles to propel herself to move forward – just like the first time her father took her for a swim.

\-----

Delphine asked Jérémie again if he wanted to hang out a bit in the loft before his early morning flight back to Thailand. Like before, he declined, opting to wait in the airport.

“I missed you, Delphy,” he said as he carried out his luggage from the trunk before enveloping her in a hug. “Think about what I said, yes?”

“About going to Thailand for the holidays?” Delphine asked.

“Yes,” and Jérémie let go. “Maybe the timing would be right by then.”

She could only timidly smile before saying goodbye and asking her brother to give Carine and Louise all her love.

It's been a good couple of days, but hosting her brother and touring him around San Francisco took a lot out of her. Walking from the parking spot to her apartment building, Delphine was already relishing having the loft all to her own, perhaps opening a bottle of wine while having a foot soak.

She didn’t need the kind of drama she was about to face as she turned the knob.

“Serves me right for not changing the locks,” Delphine muttered as she closed the door. “You look well, Paul,” she said when she turned to face her ex-boyfriend holding a box under his arm.

“You can get lost, Delphine,” Paul said, grabbing his magazines and books from the shelf.

“I thought we ended things amicably,” Delphine said, surprised by the irritation in Paul’s voice. She took off her knitted scarf and hung it on the rack. “I already gave you all your things three weeks ago.”

“Well, you forgot some of the important ones,” Paul said, leaving the box on the counter as he climbed the loft stairs. “I just realized now that we’re broken up that all this time, you’ve been withholding important information from me,” and he angrily went down the stairs and shoved a couple of shirts in the box.

“I was honest,” Delphine said. “If I weren’t, I’d have accepted your proposal and we’d be engaged. Do you want that? To be engaged to someone who’s not yet ready for marriage?”

When Delphine came back to the States with a newly-minted working visa, she was expecting Paul to meet her at the airport. She didn’t mind when he said he had an important last-minute appointment and couldn’t make it. But to her surprise, she got home to an apartment littered with softly-lit candles, to a bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries.

And to Paul in a crisp suit - on one knee, holding a ring.

“Cut the bullshit,” Paul's jaw clenched in stress. “You don’t want to be engaged because you’re not ready for marriage! You don't want to be engaged to me! Because you’re in love with Cosima!”

“Interesting theory,” Delphine said, rolling her eyes. “But as you know, I haven’t seen or talked to Cosima in ages.”

“If you were really honest,” Paul bit back, running both hands on his hair. “You’d tell me the real reason. Isn’t that right, Countess?”

“What did you say?”

Paul walked away from his box to quickly retrieve something on the bookshelf. Her eyes went wide when she saw what he was holding in his hands - her dissertation and Cosima’s various postcards that she used as bookmarks.

“ _ Dear Countess, _ ” Paul read a Bali postcard, attempting to mock, “ _ Not a day goes by when I don’t think of you – when I don’t remember that night when we met. The erotic tension of the shared bed… _ ”

“Nothing happened that night,” Delphine said, unsure why she even said that. “And…Merde…You went through my personal things?”

“ _ Dear Countess, _ ” Paul continued, disregarding her question to read another postcard - a more recent one from Alaska, “ _ I don’t know why I’m writing you this, but I can’t stop thinking about that magical four days in Tahoe, _ ” slamming the dissertation and all its bookmarks. “It’s all here! Written on corny postcards!”

“Get out!” Delphine shouted, picking up her diss from the floor and holding it close to her chest. “Get out or I swear I'll call the police.” She felt the prick of angry, tired tears behind her eyelids as she sat on the couch. She may have looked vulnerable than angry as Paul walked towards the kitchen, his face softening, to open a bottle of wine. 

“It’s a good job we didn’t get engaged then,” he calmly said as he handed her a full glass.

“I’m sorry,” Delphine whispered as Paul sat beside her. She didn’t feel the need to conceal it anymore. Paul was right – it’s all there in the postcards.

“For what it’s worth,” Paul said, taking a healthy sip of his drink, “I felt loved when we were together. I really did.”

“I did too,” Delphine said, rubbing her eyes and taking a drink.

“I’m sorry I went through your stuff,” and Paul looked at her. “I’ve just been a bit angry recently that’s all…”

“It’s alright,” Delphine said, trying to be agreeable.

“I miss you…”

“I know you do,” and Delphine took off her shoes and rested her feet on the coffee table.

“Like, I feel it, right here,” Paul said, pointing to his solar plexus. “Either that or it’s trapped wind, I’m not sure.”

Delphine dryly laughed. “Either way, it’ll pass.”

“You should tell her by the way,” he said, finishing his drink, putting the glass and his copy of the loft's keys on the table before walking back to his box. “Sooner than later, or you're going to be too late.”

She just nodded at that, afraid to voice out to Paul that she thinks she’s already too late - because long-distance never works. And as the door closed, Delphine couldn’t help but look at the postcards, at her dissertation, at Cosima’s handwritten notes. She carefully returned it back to its place on the shelf – on the far right end beside her old lab goggles – giving it a sentimental caress before grabbing her glass to watch a seemingly quieter, lonelier San Francisco through the living room window. 

\-----

Cosima’s muscles felt deliciously sore and her lungs were tired but grateful for the exercise as she emerged from the pool after her allotted time. She couldn’t remember the last time she had such a nice swim. The facilities were great and the people too, which made her immediately schedule for another lap swim next week before she headed back to the locker room.

She was planning on stopping by the new café for another chai tea latte after a quick shower and a change of clothes. She was hurrying to pack up her things when the woman using the locker next to her emerged from the changing rooms to put back her bag.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” The woman said with a wry smile while she stowed her yoga mat's carrying bag inside her locker.

“Uhm, yeah,” Cosima said, taking off her contacts for her glasses. “I’m new here this semester – PhD in Biostat.”

“If you have nowhere else to be,” the woman said as she tied her long blonde hair in a ponytail, “maybe you could try the restorative yoga class. It’s free – part of RecWell’s Fitness Saturday for students. And it’s great after doing something strenuous like swimming laps.”

“Have you been monitoring me?” Cosima said jokingly.

“Maybe,” and the woman laughed as she removed her shoes, revealing to Cosima that they’re almost of the same height.

“Then maybe I should tell you my name – save you the trouble of going through my things while I’m not looking. I’m Cosima,” and she offered a hand.

“Shay,” the woman said, blue eyes wide and smiling as she took Cosima’s hand. “So, yoga?” Her voice laced with playfulness and enthusiasm.

Shay didn’t let go of Cosima’s hand until she nodded. And as she followed her to the yoga class, Cosima believed that all these – finding new places and meeting new people – were all part of establishing her new base camp, of starting fresh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you so much for continuing to read this work, for leaving kudos, comments, and encouragements. I hope you are all well and safe wherever you may be. Please let me know what worked and didn't for you in the comments section. See you in August 6, 2012 in two weeks! :D


	9. August 6, 2012

It’s either a fact of life or one of life’s cruel jokes that when you reach a certain age, your weekends would suddenly revolve around weddings. What used to be the time when you chill at home or have a night out would be burdened with deciding whether to show up at the church or just head straight to the reception. You figure out if you could re-wear an outfit, trying to guess who would be there and if you’ve bumped into them at the three or four previous weddings you’ve been in. And even if there’s no wedding on schedule, a quick look at your social media feed would remind you that people are getting married or attending receptions or planning weddings.

The guests, motifs, and table settings vary but the basics are pretty much the same. A house band plays cheesy love songs. Guests line up at the open bar. Somebody always cries. People are out to get laid. The cake looks better than it tastes. And in the middle of endless small talk, you’d wonder why you even RSVP’d when you can be at home in your sweats - finishing your diss and enjoying a rare time alone to do whatever you want.

“Welcome to your early thirties,” Cosima muttered to herself, waiting on the frazzled bartender to finally pour her drinks while she listened to the band’s rendition of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. She’d heard it live at least thrice in the span of a month, this being the fourth wedding she attended since she landed in San Francisco for a short summer visit. But while she dragged her heels to the three previous weddings, she had no problems immediately saying yes to this one.

“ _ They already got hitched so it’s technically just a party, _ ” Felix said to her a week ago when they finally met up for lunch at his loft years after not seeing each other. “ _ All very casual, show up in your jeans kind of shindig… _ ”

_ “It’s Fee’s way of making it up to me for missing my wedding. And I will find a way to kick your ass if you don’t show up,”  _ Sarah added, her image and voice clear and crisp through the phone’s screen and speaker.

“ _ There was no wedding to miss because you married Cal at a municipal office in your leather jacket and scruffy boots.”  _ Felix replied as he rolled his eyes. _ “Then you went to Timmies for double-doubles and timbits. So this is me giving you a proper wedding reception. _ ”

“ _ Cal was wearing his ratty plaid shirt, _ ” Sarah said as a way to defend her wedding outfit.

“ _ The lumberjack and the punk getting married _ ,” Felix said with a laugh.  _ “No wonder there are no wedding photos.” _

“ _ Of course I’ll be there, _ ” Cosima said, interrupting the siblings’ joshing while looking around the loft to see how much things have changed since she was last here. “ _ What’s one more week in San Fran, right? _ ” She knew she had to rearrange a few things, one of which is rebooking the flight back to Minnesota. And that’s the easy part.

“ _Then it’s settled!_ ” Felix said, the hint of a mischievous smile forming on his lips. “ _Everyone will be there._ ”

It would be convenient to say, as Cosima noticed more people asking for their drinks, that she found it easy to say yes to Felix and Sarah because of the promise of free booze. But she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since Alison’s detox boot camp. She shifted her gaze from the bar to the modern warehouse that Felix rented. There were no flowers, no cake, nobody dressed in a white gown or a tuxedo. It looked more like the house parties they used to throw than a wedding reception. And as she looked around - searching for someone but trying not to think too much about it - she realized that she found it easy to say yes to being here because she missed the people in this old life, that she missed her life in San Francisco. It only hit her now when she had less than 24 hours to go before flying back to Minnesota.

“COS!!!” And Cosima turned around to the direction of the familiar voice walking towards her with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in another. “It’s been a long time! Come here!” And she got wrapped in a bear hug. "I was really hoping to run into you tonight!"

“Man, it’s nice to see you,” she replied, patting Tony’s shoulder. “How are you? “How’s Cleveland?” Cosima smiled, remembering Felix’s quip that everyone would be here. And “everyone” included Tony who for years was their next-door neighbor until he moved to Ohio a month before Cosima went to Asia.

“Well, we got a shitty NBA team all of a sudden,” Tony said before putting the cigarette between his lips, “but I’m good. Still landing on my feet...I have my own auto shop now – it’s small and it bleeds money, but it’s mine you know. How about you, you big TV star?”

“Former TV host,” Cosima corrected, leaning at the bar as Tony flashed one of his usual wicked smiles before asking the busy bartender for another beer. “I’m done with that and I’m back at school.”

“Yeah, I heard. Minnesota. Fee told me,” Tony said, nodding approvingly. “You look really well, Dreads,” and he twirled one of her locks around his finger, something he did before when they hung out over beers and joints. “I can never pull off dreadlocks,” re-echoing what he usually said whenever he played with her hair.

“But you clean up nice,” Cosima said, playfully flicking his tie to his face. “It’s been a long time…”

“Six years, man,” Tony said, ironing the tie with his palm and suddenly looking nostalgic. “I heard about your Dad too,” his playful voice became somber, “I’m sorry. Sarah told me...and I meant to go...but I didn’t have the money for a flight or for gas. I don’t really know what to say, I know you were very close to him.” 

“It’s okay, dude. Thank you,” Cosima said with a tight smile. “You know he still asked about you even after you left?” And it’s true, Cosima thought, remembering how when Tony was still learning the ropes as a mechanic, he offered to help maintain her parents’ boat whenever they’re docked in Berkeley. It was something her dad appreciated.

“What can I say? I’m pretty memorable,” Tony joked, “plus I charge cheap,” he added. “Seriously though, Gene was a good guy - letting a newbie practice on his boat.”

“Yeah he was,” and Cosima noticed the bartender finally refilling her glass. “So Tone, you got your eye on anyone tonight?” She said, changing the topic while conveying to him that she had no problems playing his wingman for old time’s sake. The bartender was handing Tony his cold beer, needing to tap him on the shoulder because his attention had shifted elsewhere.

“I think I just found her,” and Cosima followed Tony’s gaze, her heart suddenly stuttering when she landed on his target. “Wow! I didn’t know Sarah has classy friends,” he said with a mesmerized grin.

Cosima couldn’t help but take Delphine in when her heart finally regained a semblance of its normal beating. Everyone would be here as Felix said so all night she was searching for blonde curls - slightly disappointed at the futility of it. She should have been keeping an eye out for a sight of straight blonde hair. What Cosima chose to wear was as casual as it could get: a colorful printed halter maxi dress and sensible black laced sandals - better suited for an afternoon garden party than a wedding reception. And from where she’s standing, Delphine seemed to be dressed casually too: figure-hugging black slacks, a sleeveless peach top with pleats in the middle, black leather ankle boots with stiletto heels and a zip of silver on the side. It’s casual but still very elegant.

“Do you know her?” Tony said, snapping Cosima out of her thoughts as he lights another cigarette.

“Uhm, yeah,” Cosima nodded, stealing one more glance before getting her drinks from the bar. “Her name is Delphine,” she said, suddenly feeling thirsty as she took a sip of her club soda. “She’s French…and she used to be Sarah’s roommate. Moved in right after I moved out.”

“Who’s she talking with?” Tony asked, pointing to a couple of guys and a woman engaging Delphine in animated conversation.

“Probably Cal’s friends from Berkeley,” Cosima said, emptying her glass and asking the bartender for an unexpected refill. “They TA’d together some years back.”

“So that explains the connection with Sarah,” Tony deduced.

Cosima chose to let Tony assume that. With no drink to distract her, she couldn’t help but look again. And as she watched her run a hand through long, straight hair, Cosima couldn’t decide whether Delphine looked more beautiful with her hair straight or with the more familiar blonde curls. She felt warm, she could feel herself blushing – something that Tony probably noticed which prompted him to tease her.

“So tell me, Cos - You ever hit that?”

“No,” she replied with a small shake of her head, hiding what could only be a hint of regret. “I think she’s straight.” It was a lie of sorts, meant to dissuade Tony from making his move.

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” Tony smirked, noticing Cosima still staring. “Hey, I saw her first,” he said, nudging her with an elbow. “Not that it matters given your current ball and chain,” he added, reminding Cosima about the drink she’s holding in her other hand. By the time the bartender refilled her glass, Delphine was no longer where she was. Cosima walked back to her table and was surprised when Tony chose to go with her instead of looking for Delphine. If she were in his shoes, she’d definitely look for her instead, tell her how beautiful she is with her hair straight.

“Damn, girl,” Tony said before they’re within earshot, “you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“Sorry, babe,” Cosima said, getting her wits together and setting the flute of champagne on the table. “There was a long line at the bar. People were thirsty from all the dancing, I guess.”

Cosima knew that Shay had been a bit frosty in the other San Francisco weddings they attended. She couldn’t really blame her – she’d react the same way if she’s the one getting dragged from wedding to wedding, surrounded by strangers with nobody to talk to but your date. She gave her a soft kiss on her lips, her small way of saying thank you, and was relieved when the drink and the kiss made Shay crack a small smile. “This is Tony, a very good friend from back in my Berkeley days. He used to live next door to us. Tone, this is Shay.”

“We’ve met at the buffet line,” Tony said, still smiling as he pulled the seat next to Cosima. “I asked her if she’s with the groom or with the bride,” he added while he shook her hand.

“I said I’m with you,” Shay said, still a bit thrifty with her grins and her words when it comes to other people but not at Cosima, who got a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“You sure are,” Tony muttered, earning him a small kick on the shin. “Is this your first time in San Fran?” He asked and she nodded. “So how do you like it?”

“It’s okay,” Shay said with a shrug, taking a sip of her champagne. “We’ve been here since July. Cosima took me to see the sights in our first week here.” Tony was about to say something but Shay wasn’t done talking. “I guess I would like it more if I’m not being carted to weddings every week.” And at those words, Cosima couldn’t help but feel guilty. With the exception of her former co-host’s wedding, she could have easily said no to the other invitations from her Berkeley schoolmates. Maybe she should have taken Shay out instead. She didn’t know what compelled her to go to those weddings. 

Or she knew, but didn’t want to acknowledge the reason why.

“I think that’s great,” Tony said, tracing circles on the bottle’s rim with his fingers.

“What? Going to a stranger’s wedding every week?” Shay countered.

“Well, not that,” Tony conceded, “but Cos is introducing you to people in her life. That's a pretty big step if you ask me.” Cosima could only hope as the band plays The Way You Look Tonight that Shay would see the past month from Tony’s perspective. “So what do you do in Minnesota?” Tony asked, wisely changing the topic.

“I’m training to be a traditional naturopath,” Shay answered.

“Oh,” Tony said, scratching his beard, “so, you’re like in med school?”

“No,” and Shay tried to fake a smile, “I’m more of a practical learner. Reading about it instead of doing it only hinders my learning.”

“She’s training in this swanky wellness center in Minneapolis,” Cosima swooped in. “She specializes in homeopathy, reflexology, herbal medicine, nutrition.”

“That’s cool,” Tony said, suddenly being polite. “So how did you meet this geek if you didn’t run into her in a lab or a library?”

“Ah, we met in the university rec center - a month or so after I moved,” Cosima said, taking the lead in telling the story. “She was checking me out while I swam laps.” She looked at Shay, hoping that her quip would make her banter, but all she got was a toothless smile and a nod. “Anyway, she kinda reeled me into this yoga class she was teaching. We went out for tea and coffee after…”

“And we’ve been together ever since,” Shay said, grasping Cosima’s hand. “We essentially moved in together after a month.”

“Typical lesbians,” Tony teased, “have ONE conversation and catch feelings.” His reaction made Cosima laugh, reminding her that Felix and Sarah said pretty much the same thing when they asked about Shay.

“My soul called out for her, and hers called out for me,” Shay said, clearly not amused with Tony’s words. “It’s not something to make fun of.” Cosima was a bit taken aback by the bite in Shay’s voice.

“Tough crowd,” and Tony drank, putting the empty bottle on the table. “Anyway...Shay, it was lovely to meet you,” the sarcasm oozed as he stood up from their table. “Now, Cos, if you don’t mind, I’m swooping in,” he said, pointing to his left where three tables away, Delphine was talking to Doug - another one of their former neighbors.

“Don’t try anything funny on her,” Cosima reminded as she followed Tony with her eyes.

“Who’s she?” Shay asked as she watched Tony take a seat at the other table.

“That’s Delphine Cormier,” Cosima said as Tony introduced himself to Delphine, “she was Sarah’s roommate.” She could see her laughing at whatever it was that Tony said. When was the last time she made Delphine laugh? Cosima couldn’t remember.

“Did you sleep with her as well?” Shay bluntly asked.

“No,” Cosima quickly answered, hoping the urgency of her reply will end the topic altogether. “God, this again?” She mumbled underneath her breath as Shay rolled her eyes.

“It’s just that every weekend that we’re here in San Francisco,” Shay explained, absently stabbing her food with her fork, “we go to a wedding with a coachload of people that you’ve slept with. It’s like a convention.”

“Hey, come on,” Cosima said, trying to appease her girlfriend as she wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You know you’re the only one for me now.” Still unconvinced, Shay tried to nudge away her arm. “You are,” and she gave Shay’s naked shoulder a kiss while using her softest voice. Inside though, Cosima was groaning - she really shouldn’t have gone to Jia Chan’s wedding a week ago, much more bring Shay along with her. 

That seemed to have worked as Shay whimpered and smiled. “Well, at least you didn’t sleep with the bride this time,” she said as she pointed to the makeshift stage where a clearly inebriated Sarah was clutching on the microphone, attempting to communicate with the room.

“I wanna thank all of you for being here,” she slurred happily. “I’m a fucking bride and I’m drunk!” While Shay looked on disapprovingly, Cosima was laughing and whooping along with the other guests. From her periphery, she could see Delphine laughing with Tony.

“But seriously, seriously, seriously,” Sarah said as Felix joined her on stage, more to egg her on than assist her to stand straight, “I love all of you hooligans,” and Felix began to whisper something in her ear. “Wha’? We’re gonna sing?!” Sarah huffed on the mic as the band’s drummer began to play the intro of The Clash’s I Fought The Law. “Fine, fine, we’re singing. But you’re all dancing so come on!”

“Dance with me?” Cosima gamely asked Shay.

“No, thank you,” Shay said just as soon as Tony came back to their table with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You didn’t tell me Delphine was the girl with the Sidekick,” Tony said, prompting Cosima to look at Delphine's table, seeing it suddenly empty. “I may have given her and Sarah some bad car advice years ago,” he explained to Shay. “I was drunk at that time, high too – which is why I told them it’s a good buy. She loves the shitty car though, so brownie points for me, right?” Cosima wanted to say something, but her eyes were busy searching for Delphine, finally finding her standing by the stage near the bar watching Sarah and Felix’s drunken musical stylings.

It took less than a minute for Cosima to decide what to do. “Babe, I’ll be back in a bit,” she said and Shay nodded. “Do you want another champagne?” She asked as she stood up from her seat, earning her another nod. “Okay, I’ll get you a fresh glass,” she said, kissing her on her cheek. “Hold the fort for me, man, yeah?” Cosima asked Tony before walking away.

“Sure,” Tony said as he swigged his beer. “So naturopathy, what is that?” She heard him say before the conversation was drowned out by the music and the distance.

Cosima kept a close eye on Delphine as she walked to the bar and asked for champagne for her table. She took a deep breath as she walked to her, figuring out what she’s going to say, if Delphine’s even going to talk to her after everything she did.

“I bet you 10 bucks they’ll be singing Xanadu next,” were the words Cosima settled on as she stood a foot away from Delphine while Sarah and Felix bastardized another The Clash song. She wished she had a better opening line but they were the first acceptable words that popped in her head.

Delphine looked at her, crossing her arms before hesitating to show a shy smile. “You know about that?”

“Are you kidding me? I lived with Sarah for years,” Cosima said, carefully inching closer. “Fee would always have an excuse to watch Xanadu every time he came over.” And Cosima smiled as Delphine nodded. “Sarah would say  _ fucking Xanadu again, Fee? _ ” Her poor Sarah impersonation made Delphine laugh a little, but even that was already music to Cosima’s ears – an answer to the question she asked herself when she saw Tony making Delphine smile just minutes ago.

“But she would sing along to the movie when she thinks nobody’s looking,” Delphine added.

“So,” Cosima said as the song neared its end, “care to make a wager?”

“I don’t want to gamble with you,” Delphine dismissively said, which made Cosima’s heart sink a little as she tried not to think beneath the surface of those words. “Because Felix brought his rollerblades with him,” and she pointed at a pair of rollerblades resting on an unused amp. “I absolutely have no doubt Xanadu is coming up next, so no bets from me,” she said with a shy giggle, leaving Cosima wondering how so little can mean so much to her as long as it’s from Delphine. 

Sure enough, Felix began taking off his shoes in exchange for the rollerblades as the intro to Xanadu plays. They both laughed as Sarah attempted to sing in falsetto. “Crap! We need an Olivia Newton John!” She drunkenly yelped. “Oi! Where’s Frenchie?” She asked Felix who was already starting to roller-dance in glee on stage. “Cal! Bring her up here!”

“You wanna get out of here before they find you?” Cosima offered.

“Please,” Delphine said, with Cal already searching the dance floor for her.

“Come,” and Cosima pointed to an exit near the bar. “Oh wait,” she said, “I’ll meet you outside. I just need to do something. Just wait for me, please?” Delphine nodded, opening the double doors and giving her a smile as she walked out.

And as Cosima heard the thud of the door while watching the bartender make the drinks, the words she really wanted to say to Delphine -  _ I’m sorry _ and  _ I miss you _ – echoed in her mind, making her heart beat faster.

\-----

Delphine muffled a yawn as she waited on one of the benches near the exit for Cosima - who's probably delivering a drink to her girlfriend. She still felt tired and sleepy, the two-hour nap and the shot of espresso she downed before coming here just weren’t enough. She was thankful that she was able to sleep a bit on the plane three hours after departing from Paris - or the numerous alarms she set wouldn’t have stood a chance at waking her up this afternoon.

She fished for her phone to keep idle hands busy, looking at the photos she took tonight: a picture of Sarah and her whole family before Siobhan left to tuck Kira to bed; a selfie of her with Sarah and Felix; a photo of their table - her hand on Doug’s shoulder. It inadvertently captured Cosima’s table in the background. Delphine zoomed in, noticing how Cosima was flanked by her date and Tony - who she just met but instantly liked despite his advice about the Sidekick. Looking closer, she noticed that Cosima was staring straight at the camera, lips slightly opened as if curious about something. 

It wasn’t long until the emails started pouring in. Almost everything could wait, except for a couple of messages from her co-researchers at the Institut Pasteur who had sent her data for review on the Hep C virus-interacting proteins. Sitting at the edge of the bench, she rested her elbow on the hand rest. Chin resting on a fist in the middle of reading about ineffective interferon-based therapies, Delphine looked to the door to see Cosima bearing drinks in both hands. She quickly pocketed her phone to hold the heavy metal doors for her.

“Thanks,” Cosima said timidly, handing her a root beer float before sitting on the far edge of the same bench. “You just arrived from France today?”And Delphine nodded, suddenly finding it hard to form words so she took a tentative sip of the soda pop instead, hoping that the sugar rush would make her more alert, more eloquent. “Honestly, I’m surprised not to see you earlier,” Cosima said.

“Oh?” Delphine was a bit taken aback. “When did you expect to see me earlier?”

“Two weeks ago? At Julie Hart’s wedding,” Cosima answered, bringing the glass to her lips. “I was there and...I just thought you’d be there,” and Cosima wiped away cream from her lips.

In truth, Delphine would have wanted to come, Julie being her first research advisee since she started teaching at Berkeley. But she was in Paris on the day of the wedding, coordinating Berkeley’s cell mapping research results with that of Institut Pasteur’s to identify knowledge gaps and iron out kinks. The way Cosima said it though - how she expected her to be there because she knew about her and Julie - made Delphine smile. She didn’t know that the dreadlocked brunette kept tabs on her.

But while Cosima’s knowledge of her academic career these past two years was flattering, Delphine won’t let her get off the hook that easily. “Being there must be difficult for you,” she said, “having slept with the bride.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and Cosima tried to feign nonchalance, only to be betrayed by a guilty smile, her eye teeth exposed. Delphine raised an eyebrow before sarcastically grinning, goading the brunette to come clean. 

“How do you know these things?” Cosima let out a nervous laugh when she caved in.

“She told me about it,” and Delphine ran a hand through her hair.

“Oh, did she?” Cosima playfully said, moving closer on the bench, eyebrows raised as if challenging her to say more.

“It was after we worked together,” Delphine said, sliding closer with her drink. “We were out drinking to celebrate after she presented her thesis to her panel. We were at this bar right at the edge of campus and she mentioned you. She wanted to, ehm, compare notes.” Their combined laughter filled the empty hallway. “I didn’t know what she meant until she began talking about foreplay techniques. Something about a foot massage that spun out of control,” and Delphine saw how red Cosima’s face had gotten. “I feel a bit cheated…” She said before taking another sip of the long-forgotten but still familiar drink, “because I don’t remember ever getting a foot rub from you.”

“You didn’t ask for one,” and Cosima smiled, a big one by normal standards but an unfamiliarly reserved one by Cosima standards. “And anyway, that stuff’s behind me now …” 

“Really, what happened? One night stands lost its bittersweet charm?” Delphine said, testing their newfound bantering with more playful jabs. There were only a few inches between them, and Delphine didn’t know when Cosima got so close.

“Well, contrary to popular belief and based on experience, a one night stand won’t keep you warm at night…” Cosima unflinchingly said, taking the backhanded teasing well - just like she always did before.

It was an unexpected source of relief for Delphine when her words didn’t make Cosima move away from her. “And a one night stand won’t look after you when you’re old, senile, and smelly,” Delphine added a clever quip of her own.

“Hear, hear, Countess,” and Cosima raised her root beer float for a toast.

She couldn’t look her in the eye as their glasses clinked. The sound of the familiar term of endearment she hadn’t heard in two years still made her flutter, making the prolonged silence after the toast bearable. She stole glances at Cosima, her absence only making her even more beautiful and endearing to Delphine.

“Anyway,” Cosima finally said, her voice small and unsure. “I screwed up my life,” and her voice broke, which got Delphine’s attention. “I screwed up things with Dad -”

“That’s not true,” Delphine immediately reacted, pushing a lock of Cosima’s hair behind her ear, realizing that the playful banter has transformed to something else. That after years of not speaking or seeing each other, conversations with the dreadlocked brunette still flowed easily from the nothings to the things that matter.

“And I definitely screwed up my friendships,” Cosima looked at Delphine, eyes pleading and round, before looking away. “And then Shay just came along,” exhaling a shaky breath. “She’s very understanding with me...Sticking by me through the hard months of adjusting to life in Minnesota.”

Delphine could feel her eyes going glassy as she took a long sip of her root beer float to hide a wistful smile. She was ready for this - Sarah didn’t let her come here blind. She knew she might run into Cosima and her girlfriend tonight. “ _ This one seems different, seems serious, _ ” were her former roommate’s words about it. And tonight, Delphine has seen enough from across the room to know that Sarah was right.

The door swung open every once in a while, the sounds of Sarah and Felix’s bad singing reverberating as the caterers brought in food and drinks. And every time it opened, Delphine was given a good vantage point to see Shay – who looked bored out of her wits with Tony seemingly talking her ear off.

“She’s very beautiful,” Delphine voiced out, pointing at Shay from afar when the door opened again. She couldn’t help repeating what Scott told her about Jia Chan’s wedding.  _ “Cosima was with her girlfriend. She’s beautiful… But I kinda got the sense she was hoping to bump into you.” _

“Of course we have nothing in common,” Cosima mused. She had an unusually melancholic smile as she looked to where Delphine was pointing. 

“Well,” and Delphine leaned back on the wall with her arms crossed, “having things in common is overrated if you ask me.” And Cosima grinned at that. “You’ll just end up talking and talking and never getting anywhere,”  _ just like us,  _ Delphine thought but didn’t say. But the way Cosima looked at her quizzically made her wonder if she thought the same thing. “I had a lot of things in common with Paul,” she added, taking another sip of her drink. “The same tastes in financial investments, furniture, watches. We even like the same tennis players. And look how that ended…”

“You know Shay says she can see inside my soul,” and Delphine stifled her laugh by swallowing her lips, only letting it out when Cosima started to guffaw. “I mean, what the hell does that mean?” Their giggling shoulders rubbed against each other.

It would have been nice to just laugh and keep the conversation light. But Delphine’s curiosity got the better of her. “But you love her, right?” Her laughter subsided as she said those words.

The question wiped the smirk off Cosima’s face. She looked at Delphine intently before staring at the floor and nodding. “Yeah,” she said with a tight smile as she looked at Shay from where they’re sitting before the door closed again. “Ah, I uhm…I worship her,” she added.

Delphine shook her head, hoping that the best smile she could muster would mask what she felt about Cosima’s admission. She was thankful when a waiter opened the door, distracting the brunette with the piles and piles of empty food trays being stowed away. It gave Delphine ample time to wipe away a single tear that escaped her eye. By the time Cosima’s attention was back to her, Delphine could hear Felix and Sarah singing a duet of Suddenly, still from Xanadu.

“Delphine?!?!” They heard Felix growl as Sarah sang her part. “Come on up here and sing your bloody favorite with me!”

“Come,” Cosima said for a second time this evening. But this time, when the brunette stood up, she took Delphine’s hand and held on to it.

“Where are we going?” Delphine asked with a small chuckle, nervous that Cosima would lead her to the stage before noticing that they’re walking to another door that hid a red spiral staircase.

“As much as I want to hear you sing, I’d rather talk to you some more…Have you to myself even for just a few minutes,” and with her hand in Cosima’s, Delphine climbed up, returning the small smiles the dreadlocked brunette gave her in the short journey up.

There was really nothing spectacular in the converted warehouse’s rooftop. There were a few weather-worn chairs, Delphine noticed, even if the space was only illuminated by the lights of the surrounding buildings and the small yellow bulb by the door. And as Cosima fidgeted for something in her pocket, Delphine walked toward the nearest railing, gently leaning with her hands clasped in front of her. 

“I didn’t recognize you with your hair straight,” Cosima said as she grabbed one of the chairs to use it as a makeshift door stop.

“I’m taken more seriously when I look more ehm, severe?” Delphine said. “And I needed a change.”

“It looks good,” Cosima murmured, “you look...beautiful.” 

Delphine felt herself blushing as she looked towards the nearest building. Cosima walked and stood beside her, copying her stance. This close and with nobody else in sight, she couldn’t help but tense up - which seemed to go both ways as Cosima produced a joint and lit it, letting out a relieved sigh as she blew out the smoke of the first hit. 

“Where did you get this?” Delphine asked, grabbing Cosima’s hand so she can see the shiny lighter she used to light the joint.

“From Felix,” Cosima said, passing Delphine the joint and watching her take a hit. “I wanted to have it…I knew it’s yours,” she added as she got the joint and the lighter back. Delphine didn’t know what to make of the gesture. “So how about you, any romance after Monsieur Beefcake?”

“Non.” Cosima didn’t need to know about the two bad dates she had with the guy Felix set her up with. It also didn’t surprise Delphine that Cosima knew what happened to her and Paul. If she didn’t go in blind to this reception, she was sure that Cosima was also briefed either by Felix or by Sarah. “I’m not lonely,” and she didn’t know why she felt the need to add that – maybe it was Cosima’s pensive grin that made her say it. “I’m just alone.” She let her words simmer and sink in. “There – how did that sound? Convincing?” She took the joint and took a nervous hit with an easy grin.

“Yeah, yeah, I bought that,” Cosima said, getting the joint and putting it between her lips.

“It’s true though,” Delphine said before biting her lower lip. “Plus, I don’t have time for a relationship anyway,” and Cosima looked at her like she could tell that Delphine had longed for her all these years. “I’ve managed to get a tiny grant to restart our tumorigenicity research at UCSF.” The Cell Mapping work she’s doing was both challenging and interesting, but even if she was swimming in reams of data about liver diseases, Delphine remained invested in solving the puzzle of Gene’s disease.

“Delphine!” Cosima’s face lit up, and unlike the smiles from earlier, Delphine noticed that this smile beamed with genuine happiness and excitement. “That’s huge! Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” and Delphine looked at her as she returned the shorter joint to Cosima. “I have to set things up – equipment, personnel, protocols. It will take time...But it’s happening, finally.”

“I have something to tell you too,” Cosima said, anxiously reaching inside her pocket for a small box, opening it to show her a ring.

“You’re getting married?”

“Well, yeah,” and Cosima suddenly felt conscious and snapped the box shut, shoving it back inside her pocket. “Shay asked me first – a day before we left Minneapolis for San Fran. And I bought this ring to make it official – you know, to play my part,” she said before taking a drag and resting her chin on her palm. “I am getting my shit together...” Cosima said, “are you pleased?” She asked, inquisitive eyes seeking her approval.

Delphine felt like all the wind had been squeezed out of her lungs. “Of course I’m pleased,” she still managed to say, scratching the side of her neck with her index finger. The words her brother told her played in her head:  _ timing like time changes and flows _ . And it was true because what was bad timing then only got worse now. She then reached out to hug Cosima - a ploy to hide her face and hold back the hint of tears, the frustrating anger she felt among the other overflowing emotions threatening to show. Delphine felt Cosima’s arm wrapping around her waist, her breath tickling her bare shoulder. “I’m happy for you…for you both. So when is the big day?” She asked as she reluctantly let Cosima go.

“She wants it to happen early next year,” Cosima said, studying Delphine’s face. “I want to wait a couple of years. So we compromised. Aah…it’ll happen after I finish the first draft of my diss, so maybe a year, a year and a half from now?”

Delphine held the joint, taking one more hit and smashing the blunt on the railing before flicking it to the ground. “Congratulations, mon amie,” and Delphine playfully pinched Cosima on the side. “Just imagine, by next year, you’re going to have a wife,” Delphine eked out an ironic snicker, remembering all the Julie Harts and Jia Chans that came before. “You’re going to be someone’s wife by next year. It’s…”

“Surreal?” Cosima said, moving closer to Delphine until they’re standing shoulder to shoulder. “It scares me, honestly. I don’t underestimate my propensity to fuck up.”

“You’re going to be wonderful,” Delphine said, matching the words she didn’t expect to say to Cosima tonight with a tight smile. “You love her and she loves you. And you two seem to fit. That’s really all that matters.” The words flowed out of Delphine easily – in sharp contrast to the disappointment and regret that seemed to form at the pit of her soul. She inappropriately grinned at the idea, wondering what Shay – who claimed that she could see inside peoples’ souls - would see once they meet.

“Do you really think so?” Cosima asked.

“I don’t doubt you,” and Cosima looped her hand around Delphine’s arm, a gesture that caught Delphine by surprise. “Cosima?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you,” Delphine said, looking out to the darkness of the night as an absolute truth tumbled out of her lips. It was but a small part of a bigger spiel she prepared to say to her tonight.

“I missed you too,” and Cosima leaned her head on Delphine’s shoulder.

“No more disappearing,” she whispered, and with no space between them, Delphine couldn’t help but seal the promise with a kiss on the brunette’s head.

“No more,” Cosima said. “Well, I promise I won’t if you won’t.”

Delphine could feel Cosima’s eyes on her as she stared straight ahead - the hand wrapped around her arm tightening its hold, as if Cosima was begging for her to look at her. She felt lips grazing her arm. This close and after so many years of being apart, she went against what’s right and proper as she met Cosima’s gaze, her dark brown eyes pleading, for what Delphine didn’t really know. 

And without thinking, she leaned down – half-surprised, half-relieved when waiting lips closed in on hers. 

Delphine was prepared to see Cosima tonight - to talk to her, to joke with her, to forgive and apologize, and to see her in the arms of another and make peace with it. But nothing could have prepared her for this. The noise of the party below became nothing but a murmur, the only sounds Delphine heard were the moans and whimpers they made as the kiss continued and deepened. She tasted Cosima’s lips with her tongue, the familiar taste of cream, pot, and root beer sending her thoughts into a tailspin hastening with desire and deep-seated longing. Cosima pulled her closer, and in response she grasped the side of the brunette’s neck – never wanting this to end, needing more kisses like a craven addict. 

She hummed at the feel of Cosima’s tongue on her lips, a sensation that urged her to try and pour all her love for what could very well be their last kiss. Up on the roof, time seemed to have stood still, but the thought of what would inevitably happen after was enough to make Delphine pull back.

“Cosima,” Delphine said breathlessly as she rested her forehead on the brunette's.

“Hmm?” She could feel the warmth of Cosima’s palms on her hips, making her wonder how such little touches could trigger a floodgate of emotions and sensations.

“I think we should head back,” Delphine whispered. But when dark brown eyes momentarily met hazel, she was tempted to just kiss her again. She closed her eyes instead, picturing the ring inside Cosima’s pocket and the woman who would be wearing it to quell her yearning, her love.

Cosima nodded in agreement, but didn’t move away. “Just a second,” she pleaded, arms encircling Delphine’s waist. “Just stay with me a bit longer.”

And with Cosima so close, Delphine couldn’t find it in her shattering heart to deny her. She could only cup the brunette’s face as the embrace tightened, holding on for a few seconds more to a fleeting love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading and sticking with this story. After months of mainly staying indoors, I'm finally going for a short holiday. But before I leave, I'm leaving you the 2012 chapter. Is it a feel-good chapter? A frustrating chapter? A mix of both? Don't worry, the story is moving along in a direction that all of us will like (or at least that's my hope :) ). In the meantime, tell me what you like and didn't like in the comments.
> 
> A big thank you to Corsan for the wisdom and to Lana_Maundrell for the chats :D! A thank you also goes to durianmush (hey!) who kindly loaned me her "Have one conversation and catch feelings" line for this chapter. 
> 
> Today is a big day. Please vote (if you haven't already).
> 
> Take care wherever you may be and stay well always! See you in 2013. :)


	10. August 6, 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some science, some metaphors all from Cosima's perspective :)

Even when Cosima had a full load of classes, she always made sure to leave her Tuesdays free, finding the idea of a small break in a week filled with responsibilities - ranging from the academic to the personal - an appealing necessity for her sanity. 

Her typical Tuesday always started with a carefree swim in the rec center. She’d head there first before going to the library or the lab if she felt productive. But if swimming laps tired her out, she’d go home: to read a book, take naps, smoke a joint, maybe even do yoga. Cosima could have had her pick of open swim lanes today, Tuesdays being a particularly slow day in the pool. The library would not be teeming with students too. And the apartment would be deliciously empty, with Shay out the entire day to work and train. 

She could have been enjoying her slow, responsibility-free Tuesday, but the chair of her dissertation committee chose today of all days to sit down and discuss what she had so far.

It had been close to 30 minutes since she and Dr. Helen Ross last exchanged words, a far cry from their usually boisterous consultations be it in person or via Skype. Ross was a typical academic superstar – a tenured professor known for her intelligence, wit, and generosity as an adviser and educator; and a foremost expert on Bayesian hierarchical modeling, rare diseases, and maternal and fetal mortality in the developing world. Given how in-demand she’d been for years, the tall woman in her 50s usually veered away from dissertation committee commitments. But she took a liking to Cosima after having her as a student in three of her classes. She liked her enough to take her under her wing, which was why she had been her TA for the past year.

Cosima watched Ross make one indecipherable face after another as she flipped through the pages of her prospectus’ first draft. “It’s good,” the professor finally said - but the way she said it seemed to lack her usual pep. “And from the looks of it,” she backtracked to a few pages, “you’ve crunched the big numbers and made some inferences?”

“Yeah,” Cosima replied. “At the rate I’m going, the prospectus would be ready in time for the oral defense next month.” She didn’t know if she should feel relief or dread when that time comes. Shay immediately sought to revise their arrangement when it dawned on her that it would take Cosima two years to finish her first draft. 

“ _We’re engaged, isn’t that enough for now?_ ” Cosima asked a couple of weeks after they got back from San Francisco while finally unpacking her suitcase to keep clammy hands busy.

“ _ It is, _ ” and Shay looked at the ring Cosima gave her as she leaned on the bedroom wall. “ _ But is it too much of me to ask for something definite, timeframe-wise? Something sooner? _ ”

“ _ How about…after I write my dissertation prospectus? _ ” Cosima hoped to nip a potentially huge argument in the bud, but Shay only looked confused. “ _ Uhm, the prospectus is like a snapshot of my research. I have to write what I want to study, why it’s significant, and how I’m going to do it. Then I have to defend it to my panel. And if I pass that, I can begin writing my diss. _ ”

“ _ How long would that take? _ ”

“ _ A year… _ ”

With Shay breathing down her neck, Cosima took comfort in the potential of her dissertation to impact 50% of the world’s population. Her study on elective early-term delivery and adverse infant outcomes had been going well. So far, her population-based retrospective cohort study of over 600,000 live births in the state of California revealed that elective induction prior to 39 weeks was not associated with increased risks of any adverse infant outcomes in early life.

And if her biological and statistical analysis would hold water – which Cosima’s sure they would - the results of her study would raise concern that current public health efforts to reduce elective early-term inductions have been based on biased evidence from a limited number of studies where artificially elevated risks for early electively-induced infants were reported. 

_ “It could change the way women view childbirth and gestation - helping them make better, more informed decisions at the most crucial moments of their pregnancies, _ ” she remembered saying to Ross when she first proposed it. “ _ OB-GYNs, midwives, and hospitals would have more useful, factual data which hopefully could decrease maternal and fetal mortalities. _ ”

Ross hummed before putting down the bundles of papers on her desk. The professor looked at her quizzically, as if gauging the best way to proceed but coming up empty. Cosima watched as her adviser stood up from her chair, grabbing the carafe from the coffeemaker on her small office nook. “How long have we been working together, Cosima?” She asked as she poured dark liquid into two mugs.

“A year,” she answered, “six months as my adviser.”

“Do you remember why I picked you?” And Ross set down a steaming cup in front of Cosima before retaking her seat.

“My immunology papers,” she wisecracked. The first time she encountered Dr. Helen Ross was in an elective class on immunology. It was never really in her wheelhouse, but Delphine’s investment in the field – the way she talked about it then and now – was enough to pique her interest. Cosima was surprised that she excelled at it, enjoying writing and reading immunology papers and discussing them with her peers during class. 

The first full-blown immunology paper she wrote, a 35-page research on the possibility of using simple anti-inflammatory drugs like aspirin for tumor prevention, was so well-received that Ross suggested for her to declare immunology as her minor degree. She didn’t have the heart to tell her then that she usually asked Delphine’s opinion before submitting her papers – that her papers were actually the product of hours of scientific spitballing with the blonde. She only came clean about it when she showed interest to be her research adviser.

“ _ What’s your friend’s name? _ ” Professor Ross asked, her expression neutral.

“ _ Dr. Delphine Cormier, _ ” and Cosima tried not to think too much of the friend tag associated with the name.

“ _ Cormier...? _ ” Ross’ eyebrows quirked as she searched her brain. “ _ As in Cormier with the iPSCs? _ ”

Cosima bloomed with pride. This renowned scientist and academician with decades’ worth of experience and highly-cited published works knew of her Delphine, of her work. “ _ Yup. The same Cormier who’s doing groundbreaking cell mapping work in San Fran and Paris... _ ” She added.

While Ross thanked her for her honesty, she asked for some time to think about her involvement in her dissertation. Two days later, Cosima got a one-sentence email from her: “ _ What ideas do you have so far? _ ” The subject line read “ _ I’m in. _ ”

“You know, I called Dr. Cormier before I agreed to take you on,” Ross said as she oversugared her drink, “just to know what I was getting into. If you’re the real deal.”

“Oh?” Cosima tried to taper the surprise on her face. It didn’t take much for her to think of Delphine since the summer in San Francisco. She was all she thought about for weeks after coming back to Minnesota. Shay cottoned on to her being somewhere else, which was probably the reason why she insisted on setting a date – a week after Thanksgiving, a San Francisco wedding where the marriage would be legal. Wracked with a mixture of confusion and guilt, Cosima began chipping away at the dissertation’s prospectus as a form of distraction and compensation - to refocus on the life she’s building in Minneapolis, bearing in mind the commitment she made to Shay. 

But she kept her promise to Delphine too. She may have flown away the day after Sarah’s wedding party, but she didn’t disappear from her life.  _ Never again,  _ she promised herself. They talked almost every week and wrote emails almost every day, talking about everything and anything - except for that night on the rooftop. Over the months, they have gotten rather good at dancing around that subject, and as she whittled away at her work while Shay slept, Cosima convinced herself that the kiss was a one-off: a simple by-product of the overwhelming emotions of their reunion. It was best not to talk about it, to just pick up where she and Delphine left off, to just be friends.

_ Friends who want each other, friends who think of each other _ , her mind would always whisper back, subtly refusing to be cajoled into thinking reasonably. 

“She said you are someone very special,” Professor Ross disclosed, capturing Cosima’s full attention, “a one of a kind scientist.” Her adviser leaned back on her chair, rocking herself gently. “She couldn’t fully explain why, so she sent me the unedited versions of your papers and a copy of her own dissertation with your notes. She told me to let them do the talking. And when I got them, I got it – I got what she meant.”

“I’m not that special,” Cosima mumbled, accepting compliments nowadays was surprisingly not in her wheelhouse too. “I’m just a geek girl from Berkeley trying to get a PhD.”

“Dr. Cormier really knows you very well - because that’s exactly what she said you’d say.” She couldn’t help but wonder what else Delphine said about her. Ross then reached out to grab something from the metal file cabinet behind her, a folder with her name on the label. Her adviser opened it with a smirk, making Cosima realize that it was a compilation of all her submitted papers.

“For the sake of curiosity, why did you take me on?”

Ross’ answer came quickly. “Because you have this gift of making the abstract, of making the complex, relatable - I think that’s why you did so well in that show,” and Cosima petulantly rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. And these,” Ross said, flipping through the contents of the folder, “prove that.”

“So what you’re really saying is that I oversimplify complex scientific topics? That I dumb it down like a geek monkey?” Cosima couldn’t hide the sneer in her voice. “With all due respect,” she added for some semblance of politeness.

Ross set the comment aside, waving a hand and smiling as if it’s a joke. “You’re missing my point. When I say relatable, I mean your emotions - the enthusiasm, the passion, the excitement about science and the topic at hand - pour out of every page. Reading your papers reminds me of why I got into the sciences in the first place. It’s nothing short of inspirational. And that’s why I thought you were great in Hypothesis. I think you inspired a lot of young girls to get into the sciences. These…” And Ross pointed to her papers, “these are like your arias. And I was hoping that your dissertation would be your obra maestra.”

“It isn’t?” Cosima’s question came with a tinge of hurt. 

“Compared to all these, your prospectus reads like a grocery list, Cosima,” Ross didn’t mince her words. “Something you wrote for the sake of just getting it over and done with. I read it and in every page, I get the sense that you just want it to end – which is odd. You’re not one to run out of scientific musings judging from your previous works. Hell, you had to use a 10.5 font just so you don’t exceed page limits.”

Cosima couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’ve been working on this for awhile,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “And you’re just telling me now that it sucks?”

“It doesn’t suck,” the professor quickly corrected. “It’s good, impressive. But that’s the problem – it’s just good, just impressive. You forget the pickle you’re in – that you’ve set the bar pretty high for yourself. I already know from your papers that you’re good. I’m already impressed with you and your work. I was hoping to be blown away, to get that feeling I got when I read your notes on Cormier’s study.”

“You could have told me all this three months ago,” Cosima reacted. She didn’t want to think if Ross’ other observations were true.

“I was giving you time to build it up,” Ross said, “or for you to change your mind and do something that really challenges you, that’s personal to you. What binds dissertations and research from across academic disciplines together is that they all started from a place that is personal. You study what you want to learn more of. You write what you know, what you discovered. Because when it’s personal, you get invested.”

The professor’s spiel was something Cosima had heard her say before, something she admired because a typical scientist would advocate for the opposite – that it’s better to be always impersonal and detached from the science. But the quip had a different sting now that it’s being used to critique the building block of her dissertation. “I kept waiting for that section where I would say  _ yup, this is Cosima _ . But this is your least personal work. I don’t even think that you like what you’re researching. I mean, do you even want to have a baby?”

The answer to that was no, but Cosima kept that to herself – Ross made her point and she didn’t need to know that. “So what are you saying?” She asked instead. “That I should start from scratch? Begin again?”

Ross took a sip of her coffee, rubbing her eyes as she began to flip through Cosima’s draft again. “It’s really up to you,” she said. “I know this is difficult for you to hear, believe me, it’s difficult for me to say. But if I tell you that this is your best work, I’d be doing you a disservice while insulting your intelligence. I know you’ve devoted time and effort so I’m going to make you a deal – whatever you decide, I’d support you, give you all the guidance you need. If you want to finish this work, then okay. As I’ve said, it’s good - and I wouldn’t mind being associated with it.”

“You just said it read like a grocery list,” and Cosima took a sip of the bitter liquid to hide her grumbling.

“To me it does, because I was expecting something inspirational,” Ross looked at her, her tone serious. “I think the rest of the panel would be impressed with it. You go with this for your orals and you’ll get kudos no doubt. The question is, is that really all you’ve got - an impressive dissertation you seem to be emotionally detached from?” Ross paused and waited for an answer but Cosima stayed silent. “And while we’re at it, who are you writing this for anyway? For the committee so you can finally get your degree? Or for yourself because this is your most burning question and you need and want answers?”

“That’s a lot of big questions to think about in just one morning,” Cosima said, unable to stop herself from wincing. 

Ross nodded and leaned forward to make another point. “And the answer to your question -  _ Should I push through with this or begin again? _ Depends on how you answer those questions. Genius takes time so I’m going to be really patient with you on this one. Take a couple of days - a week. Mull it over. Let me know how you want to move forward. Though something tells me you already know what to do.”

Even with her wounded pride, Cosima knew Ross was right. She nodded, taking off her glasses and rubbing her brows as she agreed. “Rattenschwanz…”

“Rattenschwanz?” Ross asked. Cosima thought she muttered it quietly enough for her adviser not to hear it. “German for…Burn in hell, Dr. Helen Ross?” She said with a laugh.

“Rat’s tail,” she clarified as she gathered her things. “Pulling a rat’s tail is unpleasant. Figuratively, it means the consequences of an action that would bite you in the ass later. Like when you get into a fender bender and you have to deal with insurance people. Or when you cancel a party you planned at the last minute and you have to call everybody.” She slung her bag on a shoulder as she stood up. “My father spent a lot of summers in Germany as a teenager. He said it a lot for the most innocuous of things – when he ate more bacon than he should have. Or when he missed a dentist appointment. I'm not even sure if he used it right.” 

“I wouldn’t think too much of it,” Ross was all confidence as they shook hands. “So you delay your orals for another semester, no big deal, right?”

“ _ Fucking rattenschwanz, _ ” Cosima said in her head, unsure if she’s using the expression right but fully aware that the consequences of doing the right thing would go beyond delaying her orals. She gave the professor a curt smile and a nod before she stepped out of her office, craving for a joint to figure out what she just agreed to do as she walked to the parking lot.

\-----

“ _ When do I get to meet your mom? _ ” Shay asked as she studied the family picture on the bookshelf she was re-arranging to make room for her own books - still in their boxes and still faintly smelling like the apartment she recently let go of when she moved in with Cosima.

“ _ Probably the next time she’s in San Francisco, babe, _ ” Cosima said, choosing to be non-committal as she turned away from her laptop to see Shay looking at the lone photo she put in the apartment – of her as a 12-year-old flanked by Gene and Sally while aboard their old boat, Dread Knot.

“ _ Tell me something about…” _ Shay paused, trying to remember the name, _ “Mrs. Niehaus, _ ” she compensated by sauntering towards Cosima to sit on her lap. “ _ You don’t talk much about her, _ ” the leather chair creaked under their shared weight.

Cosima tried to kiss the request away. She thought it worked, but a hand playfully pushed her by the chest as she tried to divest Shay of her tank top.

“ _ Just one thing, _ ” Shay said, “ _ and I’ll give you what you want. _ ”

“ _ She’s my mom, _ ” Cosima exhaled, feeling cornered. “ _ What can I say? We don’t get along that well. _ ”

“ _ Why is that? _ ” And Shay’s tone – soft and curious – surprisingly didn’t put Cosima at ease.

“ _ Because she’s gone impatient with me, _ ” and no longer in the mood, she moved to pivot back to her desk, but Shay refused to let her or the topic go. Cosima acquiesced when Shay pouted her lips in disappointment. “ _ I think she’s always had this ideal version of me in her head – someone brilliant, someone who always does the right thing. But I uhm...manage to go against all that. _ ”

Cosima looked away, remembering the last time she talked about Sally – how Delphine didn’t even have to ask. How she essentially unloaded about the many years of passive-aggressive remarks and arguments between mother and daughter. And about how much that hurt.

“ _ I couldn’t really blame her,” _ Cosima said, repeating what she had said to Delphine years ago _. “You can only disappoint someone so much… _ ”

_ “Then I promise to be patient with you,” _ Shay whispered, giving her a kiss for good measure before she stood up to continue unboxing her belongings. Deep down, Cosima tried not to think too much about the stark difference in Shay’s response to that of Delphine’s.

_ “That’s not true, Cosima,”  _ was what the taller blonde said while sitting with her in the hospital lounge back in 2008 when they found Gene’s new fatal growths. “ _ I’m sure she’s proud of you...imperfections and all. I am…and I’m not even related to you. _ ”

There was no kiss there, no promises of giving her whatever she wanted after giving an answer deemed acceptable. Just Delphine’s strong shoulder to lean on and the calm utterance of something Delphine believed in her heart to be true. Even as a memory, it gave Cosima immense comfort. She went back to her paper, feeling better as she stared at the screen to type out the dissertation she ambitiously planned to do.

Cosima thought, as she stared at her laptop – at the various contents of a folder named  _ DISSERTATION!!! _ – that the only thing she was in the mood for after her morning meeting was the bag of weed she was saving for when she passed her prospectus defense. It was supposed to be her small victory lap of sorts before diving headfirst into writing and researching for her actual dissertation. It was also something meant to calm her down before they started planning the wedding.

The hybrid strain promised to be a sweet, relaxing smoke that boosted creativity and uplifted the spirits. Felix swore by it, claiming that it got him out of a sudden attack of self-doubt and artist’s block during his first few months in London years ago. But as she tossed the keys and took off her coat, she gravitated toward the familiar comfort of her desk, opening her bag to grab her laptop.

“Prospectus Deletus,” and Cosima waved her index finger like a small magic wand before clicking delete in an effort to make herself laugh. She easily shrugged off the criticisms hurled at her work. It wasn’t what hurt. What hurt was that her adviser was right on the money. The subtext of their meeting was that her prospectus made Ross think that she was taking shortcuts to her degree: that given a choice between a dark, uncertain alley and an easy, convenient path, Cosima would choose the latter. Suddenly she seemed to have become too much of a coward to poke at things with sticks in the dark - which is what science is essentially all about. The thought that she’d lost the plot somewhere along the way made her tremble in fear.

She pushed the feeling aside as she clicked another document – one that was last opened a little over a year ago. Its title, _Ambitious.docx,_ was prominently displayed at the top of the screen as she read the initial data she had on her other research interest. Cosima may be a lot of things, but she refused to become a science wuss.

_ “Are you sure we need this many clothes?” _ Shay asked as she walked away from the bedroom to search for her suitcase in the coat closet. “ _ Isn’t a month a bit too long for a vacation? _ ”

“ _ Yes, _ ” Cosima groaned, absently moving the bundles of clothing on the other side of the bed. “ _ We’ll need clothes for when we check out my old stomping grounds. _ ” She rubbed her eyes to wipe away the remnants of a short nap gone long – a necessity after she pulled an all-nighter to go down the very deep end of the rabbit hole of her possible dissertation topic. “ _ And we might be going to a wedding or two. _ ”

“ _ We’re going to more than one wedding? _ ” Shay’s muffled voice didn’t hide her surprise.

“ _ Just one wedding…Sorry...Jesse’s wedding, _ ” and Cosima winced. Maybe she’s still sleepier than she let on, grabbing her black-framed glasses and staring at the ceiling as she waited to fully wake up. She knew from Scott that Delphine’s position in Berkeley required her to be in France for a month during the summer break, leaving her with no idea when she could see the blonde. But she managed to charm Julie Hart’s wedding planner over the phone, who told her that a Delphine Cormier RSVP’d for the reception. Cosima RSVP’d right away and said she won’t be bringing a plus-one, the prospect of "bumping into" Delphine in two short weeks exciting and scaring her all at the same time.

Shay finally dragged the empty suitcase to the bedroom just as Cosima sat up on the bed, her bare breasts distracting her girlfriend from starting to pack for their San Francisco trip.

“ _ I just thought, _ ” and Shay lost her thin silk robe, leaving it and the suitcase lonely by the edge of the room, “ _ that we’d be spending more time like this. _ ” She crawled into bed, hungry eyes never losing sight of her target.  _ “I can feel how much you want me,”  _ she whimpered as she pressed her thigh on Cosima’s underwear-clad center.

It felt good to be really wanted and she easily undulated under Shay’s touch, letting out a moan as lips captured a nipple before moving up to kiss her neck.

“ _ Marry me, _ ” Shay whispered. Cosima was about to rule it out as something said in the heat of the moment, but Shay stopped to look her in the eye, their bodies completely flushed against each other. “ _ Marry me, Cosima. I need it. I can’t wait any longer. _ ”

She nodded and Shay smiled before picking up on her aborted journey. It felt good to be simply wanted - it felt easy to get lost in the affection. And as she surrendered to Shay’s touch, whatever excitement Cosima felt for what could happen in two weeks had been replaced with dread and an unfamiliar feeling of sadness.

Ambitious!.docx really earned its name, Cosima mused as she re-read the barebones dissertation prospectus she began writing barely two months into her stint at UMN. It was an idea that was sparked by reading Delphine’s diss – that what could advance the blonde’s iPSC tumorigenicity work were accessible methods to determine every possible genetic cause of rare diseases like that of her dad’s.

The forgotten dissertation idea focused on Human Phenotype Ontology or HPO - a comprehensive biological data resource used for the analysis of human diseases and phenotypes, including their mode of inheritance, the onset, and the largest category of phenotypic abnormalities. The on-going development and annotations of HPO data aimed at bridging the gap between genome biology and clinical medicine. But comprehensive data banks always meant complicated encoded datasets, and combing through it all would dramatically slow down any study or clinical trial.

Ambitious!.docx lined up what Cosima intended to do in response to that. She would develop a suite of software packages to simplify HPO analysis and visualization. It could predict how genes would be expressed and physically manifested, giving allied researchers like Delphine a helpful, simpler tool to study rare genetic diseases and improve possible clinical treatments like iPSCs. If done correctly, the HPO Software could speed up genome biology research without jeopardizing accuracy while cutting down on costs. The additional savings could then be used for improving the lab by adding more equipment or qualified researchers.

Reading the next section, Cosima remembered how she intended to one-up the idea by adding a social aspect to the entire project. She wanted to touch on the lack of social support in rare disease communities, how people lose their way as they watch loved ones perish because of an unclassified disease. She of all people should know. Which was why apart from the HPO software bundles, Cosima intended to build a network for people suffering from rare diseases and their loved ones - in the hopes that the social network could turn into a thriving social support system. 

It’s ambitious both in aims and scope of work, but it was uncharacteristically realistic about schedules. Software development and documentation alone would eat a year - at the very least - with the research needed beforehand requiring the same amount of time. It would take six months to a year to interview rare disease community members and to launch the social network. She’d need another year for optimization, alpha and beta-testing both the HPO software and the rare disease network. Fine-tuning the prospectus alone - submitting it, defending it, and passing the oral defense - would require about 10 months.

Cosima closed the document, her fingers hovering over the keyboard before deleting it too – feeling too intimidated by its breadth and with the many possible scenarios for failure. But it didn’t feel right trashing Ambitious! - with all its potential and all the questions it posed that she could answer. She planned to restore it, but she went to the bin instead of just undoing things.

She looked at the two documents inside:  _ FormalDissProsV01.docx  _ and  _ Ambitious!.docx _ . Cosima massaged her temples as she remembered that the only reason why she shelved the latter was because she felt responsible to hold her end of the bargain with Shay. The maternal-fetal research she settled for would only need two and a half years - three if she wanted to be extra meticulous. On the other hand, barring any kinks or dead ends, the fastest she could accomplish Ambitious! would be four years. 

Minimizing the bin, Cosima switched her gaze on her phone. It’s 1 p.m. in Minnesota and 8 p.m. in Paris. She knew she’s an hour early for their scheduled video call, but she opened Skype anyway and clicked the call button when she saw that Delphine was already online.

“ _Hey! You’re early,_ ” Delphine said. “ _I just got here,_ ” she removed her coat to reveal that she’s still in her work clothes: a white blouse with square patterns tucked in tailored black pants, the silver buckle of her black belt giving off a dull shine. But even on the small screen, the waves and ripples of the familiar blonde curls gathered in a loose ponytail distracted Cosima.

“I kinda need your opinion about something,” Cosima said, sheepish and unsure. Delphine sensed her meeker tone and squinted. “ _ Okay. Are we starting Root Beer Float Tuesday early? Or should I grab a bottle of wine so you can drink vicariously through me? _ ”

She laughed, tempted to tell Delphine to pour a wine glass to the brim. But she needed her sober for this discussion. “I’ll grab my root beer,” and Cosima disappeared from the frame. By the time she got back, Delphine was pouring root beer on a glass that already had a scoop of vanilla ice cream. “ _ So what is it that you need my opinion about? _ ”

Cosima proceeded to tell her about the meeting with Professor Ross, noticing a faint blush on the blonde’s cheeks when she mentioned that she knew about their phone conversation. She let it go, giving Delphine a cliffsnotes version of how her prospectus read like a grocery list. “And then I got home and read the HPO project. You remember that?”

Delphine nodded, eyes going wide mid-drink. “ _ I remembered you promising to give my lab…What is the term…"  _ The tip of her tongue caught between rows of perfect teeth,  _ "first dibs!”  _ She said with an excited snap of a finger.

“Yeah,” and Cosima leaned on her chair, running both hands on her hair. “And from the looks of it, the offer still stands because I’m leaning towards doing that instead. But...” Delphine gave successive small nods, conveying that she gets the picture and that Cosima need not elaborate. It was one of the many ways they danced around the subject of what follows after Cosima passes her prospectus defense.

There was silence as both root beer floats reached the halfway mark on their respective glasses. Cosima let out a sigh. “If I’m one of your students,” she began, “what would you advise me to pick - the maternal-fetal study or the HPO project?”

“ _ Cosima… _ ” It was almost a whisper, but the warning in the blonde’s voice was not lost on her. “ _ You know I can’t do that... _ ”

“Look, forget all the personal stuff attached to it for five minutes,” Cosima was almost pleading, “and just focus on the crazy science.”

“ _ When was I ever successful at separating the crazy science from the personal? _ ” Delphine asked back.

“You do it every day at work,” and Cosima couldn’t mask her sarcasm.

“ _ Yes, _ ” and Delphine bit her lower lip, “ _ but I could never do it when it’s you. When it’s our crazy science... _ ” Cosima watched as Delphine waved her fingers between them before adorably chewing on the tip of her thumb. She sighed. “ _ Cosima...It's your life,” _ her voice sounded dejected. “ _ I don’t want to tell you what to do...Not at the expense of someone’s feelings. So it doesn’t matter what I think. _ ”

Cosima wanted to go after that last thought – to say that what she thinks matters to her in ways she couldn’t even describe nor quantify. “Then just answer me this,” she said instead, changing tact and carefully considering her next question. “If we had your iPSC lab and this HPO software five years ago, do you think we could have saved Dad’s life?”

Delphine leaned closer to her laptop, puppy dog eyes wide in surprise as she cradled a cheek on a palm. For a short eternity, Cosima was afraid that Delphine would evade the question again. She was relieved when she heard her voice.

“ _ I think five years ago…If we had the lab and the software, we’d be two steps closer to cracking it, to figuring out the puzzle of Gene’s disease. _ ”

Delphine paused to look at her intently, and with that one look, Cosima remembered just how invested the blonde was from the moment she confided to her about Gene's disease. How she's still invested long after his passing. How personal it all is for her still. “ _ I don’t know if it would be enough to find and develop a cure for him…But with the lab and the software, I think we could have had a breakthrough, maybe in time for someone else with the same illness. And whoever that person is could thank Gene for saving their life. _ ”

And as Delphine answered Cosima’s most burning question, she re-opened her laptop’s bin, restoring Ambitious!.docx in its rightful place.

\-----

Cosima ended up smoking a joint while she was in the middle of updating her list of related literature and studies to be reviewed for the HPO Project. Felix was right to recommend this strain - not only did she feel productive, she also felt fearless. She wanted to update the document before sending it to Professor Ross for her feedback, but like before, she found herself losing track of time as she got further down the HPO and rare disease rabbit hole.

With the joint between her fingers, Cosima was bookmarking potential resources for when she finally gets the green light for her dissertation when the sound of the door snapped her concentration.

“I see you’re starting the celebrations without me,” and Shay walked over to their small kitchen to put down what looked like a bottle of champagne before giving her a kiss on her lips. “So, how did it go?” She asked, eyes twinkling in excitement. Cosima closed the laptop and took a long hit. She was about to come clean but Shay beat her to the punch.

“It’s not happening this December isn’t it?” Shay chided and Cosima nodded in shame. “What? Ross didn’t like your work?”

“Not really.”All Cosima could do was stare at the floor. “She said it’s good and impressive. But she also said I could do better, and I think - ”

“So you’re not re-doing everything, that's good news, right?” Shay cut Cosima off. “It’s a quick revision?”

“I’m not re-doing anything. I’m starting from scratch,” and Cosima finally looked Shay in the eye.

“But she said it’s good!” Shay had both hands on her waist, unable to hide her disappointment any longer. “Why do you have to change things that are already good?”

“Because that’s not the point! Because I want to do something that I give a rat's ass about. Something I’m actually invested in!” Cosima instantly regretted saying that.

“So us, the wedding, the life together here in Minnesota – that’s not something you’re invested in? Is that what you’re saying?” And Shay paced around the bedroom, her anger mixing with the disappointment. Cosima was about to give her a truthful answer - one she knew would really hurt, but Shay was able to quickly add in another remark. “I knew this was going to happen. I felt it, I saw it.”

“What do you mean you saw this happening?” Cosima asked, frustrated that she couldn’t get a word in.

“Ever since we came back from San Francisco,” and Shay stopped to look at her with small, tear-brimmed eyes, “things have changed. You have changed. I knew going there – back to your old life – was going to take you away from me. That’s why I asked you to marry me before we left – so that whatever happens in San Francisco, even when you get your old life back, you would know that I am part of your future. Cosima, I don’t think you know how I try so hard to be patient with you every day, but sometimes…” Shay trailed off, her expression changing into something unreadable.

“Sometimes what?” Cosima goaded, the relaxation from the smoke easily replaced with frustrating exasperation.

“Sometimes you’re so difficult to love…”

Cosima knew that Shay said it – with a straight face and a sure voice – to hurt her the way she had been hurting her. And she couldn’t really blame her for it, after all, you can only disappoint someone so much. There was really nothing she could say about that. 

“I’m sleeping at Sandrine and Harmony’s tonight,” Shay said, picking up her bag and re-wearing her coat. “You can thank me later for leaving you alone with whatever it is you chose to be invested in.” 

The sound of the door slammed in anger still startled Cosima even when she was fully expecting it. “Fucking rattenschwanz,” she muttered to the apartment, unsure if she’s using the foreign expression right but certain that this was just the first of many well-deserved consequences for what she had chosen to do - trading something good for something uncertain. The guilt settled in quickly, making Cosima seek comfort in the possibility that maybe, this would all be worth it in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think somebody made a choice :).
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking to this story, for reading and leaving word. You've been really patient and I promise that I will try to reward your patience. In the meantime, please tell me what you like or didn't like in the comments.
> 
> It warms my heart that there are several awesome people I wish to thank for making this chapter what it is. A huge thank you to Lana_Maundrell who has shared with me the imagery that is rattenschwanz months ago :). I hope you enjoy how the rattenschwanz chapter shaped up. A big thank you to durianmush who gave me a crash course on PhD steps while I dragged her down the rabbit hole of fanfic character dissertations :). And a thank you always to mon amie Corsan who has known of this story idea even before the first paragraph was written.
> 
> I hope you are all well and staying safe. See you in 2014 :D!


	11. August 6, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long (so sorry if that's not your thing) and has a bit of everything. And hey Aramblingowl :), there's some tennis here too.

It was the kind of sleep she often only dreams about – deep and relaxed, as if all her troubles magically disappeared as soon as she closed her eyes. She basked in the snugness of the sheets against her naked body, the comforting sensation of skin meeting cotton making her want to stay in bed past breakfast but just in time for brunch.

Brunch would perfectly punctuate a sleep as perfect as this, she thought as she moved to build herself a cocoon out of sheets, pillows, and blankets. She could already smell the waffles as they brown, the bacon as it crisps, the coffee as it drips. But her hand that was reaching out for a blanket strewn somewhere in the bed fell on something else – on someone else – on the dips and curves of another person, the coziness of the sheets paling in comparison to the smoothness and warmth beside her.

She opened her bleary eyes without bothering to wear her glasses. She wanted to see. She wanted to know if it was just a phantom memory or a lucid dream. Her eyes took in a sight of alabaster skin, standing out in sharp contrast to the steadily lightening darkness of the early morning that bathed every corner of her apartment. Her heart skipped a beat as her fingers coasted from one beauty mark to another. And with every new discovery - a freckle here, a speckle there - all intentions of sleeping in were forgotten to make room for exploration.

She could sleep when she’s dead - she had more pressing and important matters to attend to now.

The expedition led her to a portion of skin covered by long, blonde curls. She longed to see what’s underneath, making excited but silent guesses about the number of flecks she would find. But her hand was captured by another in the short but reverent journey from bare hips to shoulders. The other hand held on to her tight, pulling until her arm was completely draping a waist.

This close, she couldn’t help but breathe her in - hints of vanilla and lavender mixed with sweat and remnants of sex. It was intoxicating, but there’s no quelling her curiosity. She wiggled her free hand from underneath her pillow to unveil the only portion of skin hidden from view, running fingers through the curls she set aside. She smiled when her guesstimate didn’t veer too much away from reality.

Not that it mattered - she would have grinned like a fool regardless.

Still, she wanted to celebrate her lucky guess by giving each newly-discovered dapple a kiss, claiming all the beauty marks she could find in the name of Cosima Niehaus. She was halfway done when a sleepy whisper stopped her on her tracks. 

“ _Mon amour…_ ”

It was said so softly, so gently, that she thought she was hearing things. She pressed closer, eyes shuddering at the feel of the woman’s back on her bare breast. The only confirmation she got that those words were uttered was the way her hand was held onto tighter – the way Delphine’s long fingers interlocked with hers.

“ _Yes?_ ” Cosima asked, snuggling and landing gentle kisses on the blonde’s shoulder.

“ _J'ai froid,_ ” Delphine mumbled in her sleep, rubbing their entwined hands on her naked torso.

“ _What?_ ” She was enamored even if she was barely awake.

“ _Cosima,_ ” and Delphine moved their linked hands in search of a blanket. When her subconscious efforts proved futile, the blonde settled for bringing the hand she’s holding closer to her chest, giving the arm she’s clutching onto an unmistakable kiss. Feeling thoroughly claimed, Cosima carefully lifted the blanket by her feet with her toes. She would have used her hands to throw it over them, but Delphine didn’t want to let her go.

“ _I’m right here,_ ” Cosima reassured with a soft kiss on the side of her head, reluctantly pulling her hand away to quickly stretch out the fabric. “ _I’m gonna keep you warm_ ,” she cuddled the blonde immediately as soon as they were underneath the blanket, giving a sleeping Delphine a loving glance before closing her eyes. She held on tighter, she’d give anything for them to stay this way forever.

It was the last thought on her mind before sleep reclaimed her.

_***Ding, Ding, Ding***_

Cosima jolted awake in her seat, the melodic ringing blaring from the speakers above her yanking her out of a dream that felt too vivid, that felt so close and yet so far. Caught between nervousness and excitement, she barely had a wink of sleep the night before. She couldn’t recall when she dozed off, though she guessed that it was shortly after the train entered the Channel Tunnel, remembering looking at the overhead screen and being surprised that she’d be in France in less than half an hour. Thankfully, the seat beside her remained empty for the duration of the three-hour trip.

Her stomach growled, she regretted not getting that cup of coffee and muffin at the St. Pancras Station before she boarded the train. She clutched her nape instead - intending to stretch her way out of a stiff neck - before getting her eyeglasses from the inside pocket of her dependable red coat.

“ _Mesdames, messieurs, bonjour. Eurostar et votre chef de bord vous souhaitent la bienvenue dans Paris…_ ” Cosima’s French was poor - even if the announcement would be slowed down she wouldn’t understand any of it - but she lit up at the mention of Paris. After the rapid-fire French announcement, another person took over. This time, the speech - an English translation of the French spiel, was slower and more tentative. She paid considerable attention to it, taking note of the instructions to put together a barebones plan.

_Turn right for the taxi stand._

_Grab a taxi to get to the Pasteur Institute._

_Inquire about Delphine and wait for her._

_Maybe even grab a quick late lunch before visiting the Institute’s museum to kill time if necessary...?_

That was as far as her “plan” went.

Cosima let out a sigh, leaning her head against the train’s window – her breath fogging a small portion of glass. She hoped she could read French so she would understand the colorful and angry graffiti written all over the side of the tracks. She wished she could speak French so she could tell Delphine what’s on her mind, overcoming language barriers so she could fully express herself, so that nothing would get lost in translation.

The train slowed down and the graffiti disappeared, the sight of parked trains on the track filling her periphery. She figured 300 miles’ worth of rumination would be enough to calm her nerves, but as she stood up to head to the exit, she felt shaky and unsure.

“You won’t know if it’s worth a try if you don’t try,” she reminded herself, repeating words Felix said to her the night before. The double doors automatically opened, Cosima lifted her bag and stepped onto the platforms of Gare du Nord.

It’s too late to chicken out now.

\-----

“ _When was the last time you saw her?_ ” Felix asked as he drank his beer while Cosima nursed a glass of ginger ale.

“We _Skyped more than two weeks ago, right before I got here,_ ” Cosima said, taking a sip. “ _It was our weekly thing...An hour of just talking, but lately we've been cancelling – she’s very busy at work. So we email._ ” She was glad when Fee dropped his plan of dragging her to his favorite pub in London in favor of a one-on-one “drinking” session by the kitchen table. “ _You sure Kendall wouldn’t mind me drinking her ale?_ ”

“ _She has plenty to spare, don’t worry,_ ” Felix said with a wave of his hand. Kendall grumbled at first - mentioning something about all the noise she'd have to deal with - when Felix said that a friend was going to spend a week with them. But when she saw that it was a woman-friend and not one of Felix’s new boyfriends, she mellowed – even offering Cosima a cigarette, which Felix said was Kendall’s way of being hospitable. “ _So when was the last time you saw blondie outside Skype?_ ”

Cosima leaned back on the kitchen counter, unsure how to answer Fee’s question. “ _I saw her on TV… I watched the French Open Women’s championship and there she was._ ” She paused to gauge if Felix was going to tease her about it, but he kept a straight face - seemingly interested to hear her answer. “ _She may have mentioned that she was going to watch live and I saw her there – she was sitting in one of those cordoned off boxes near the court, clapping and cheering._ ”

Truthfully, she couldn’t tell who won that tennis match even if her life depended on it. All she knew after watching it for almost three hours was that one player was tall, blonde, and Amazonian; while the other was a brunette - short and compact like her. But she could vividly describe what Delphine looked like in the less than 30 seconds she was shown on camera. She wore her blonde hair down and she was wearing a cream blouse adorned with prints of horses. She took note of where she was sitting, and at some point during the match, she noticed that Delphine wore dark, round glasses that made her look like a badass.

“ _I’ll be more specific,”_ Felix said after rolling his eyes _.” When was the last time you saw her in the flesh?_ ”

Cosima stared at her drink, acting as if she’s trying to recall even if she knew exactly when. In fact, her mind could only focus on two things nowadays: her dissertation and the last time she saw Delphine in person. She’d been poring over the details of that day, June 4, for weeks. “ _It was three weeks after Shay broke up with me,_ ” she said, omitting the specifics, “ _a few days after she moved out of the apartment,_ ” the lingering image of how her engagement ended: a nondescript keychain resting on her desk, felt more gut-wrenching than she expected. “ _Delphine showed up at the apartment before she flew for Paris the next day._ ”

“ _So you had all that time together…I reckon you didn’t see the wonderful sights of Minneapolis,”_ Felix said with a mirthful smirk _._

 _“We watched Singin’ in the Rain,”_ Cosima added.

 _“And you didn’t tell her?_ ” His arms folded over his chest.

She shook her head and Felix took a swig. “ _Shay and I just broke up. I just called off an engagement… It wasn’t the right time. I don’t know if I deserve -_ ”

“ _Oh will you knock it off with that excuse!_ ” Felix’s beer sloshed as the bottom of the bottle banged on the wooden table. “ _Just tell her how you feel! You’re fucking 35 years old, Cos. It’s time to strap on a pair,_ ” he laughed amidst his tirade, “ _among other things, if you’re feeling frisky._ ”

“ _That’s what I’m doing this weekend,”_ Cosima confessed, hiding the blush in her cheeks, _“going to Paris to tell her, to talk to her – not strapping on anything._ ” She felt the need to add that last quip, sensing that Felix was about to make a salacious comment about size and girth.

“ _Why wait?_ ”And Felix grabbed his phone. “ _There’s one that leaves tomorrow - a 7 a.m. train and an 8 a.m. train. Either way, you’ll be there before lunch. Come on, take blondie by surprise. You won’t know if it’s worth a try if you don’t try._ ”

** _Ring, Ring_ **

In the 20 minutes she had spent waiting in the lobby of the Pasteur Institute Campus, Cosima had noticed that the two receptionists - a man and a woman in their 20s, always answered the lobby phones after only two rings. The man with blonde hair and well-tweezed eyebrows always spoke in French. But the woman – younger and unassuming, answered in English. There were instances when the man would answer a call, only to frantically push the handset to the woman who would then seamlessly converse in English. Whenever that happened, the man would mouth a _merci_ and the woman would shrug her shoulders as if saying _no biggie_.

Cosima watched them man the phones, wondering if they go out for drinks after work. If they give each other gifts during holidays and birthdays, if they go on road trips together. She found herself grinning - maybe if the scientist thing doesn’t pan out, she could be a receptionist. It’s a no accountabilities job: you clock in, clock out, and the only stress to deal with is a caller or a visitor speaking a foreign language.

Funny what her mind chose to latch on to when it’s expecting the worst.

It was the woman-receptionist who Cosima approached when she arrived, patiently listening that she’s a friend of Dr. Cormier’s as she handed her UMN I.D. She gave her a curt smile before dialing a number. A couple of minutes later, the woman told her in heavily-accented English that Dr. Cormier was called into a meeting, giving her a visitor’s pass in exchange for her I.D. It could only go to the cafeteria, she said, a subtle nudge for her to wait somewhere else. She had a nice lunch despite the butterflies in her stomach – the food at Pasteur would make the cafeteria offerings of UMN and even Berkeley shrink in shame. But when the food was gone, she had nowhere else to go but back at the lobby. When she returned, the woman gave her a polite smile. The man didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

She was trying to stay busy, her eyes darting from her phone to the elevators. She was grateful to see an email from Professor Ross, thanking her for coming as her T.A. for last week’s Life Science Society Conference at the Queen Mary University of London. Her adviser also sent the latest revisions for her dissertation. A year into her diss and the revisions were still mild - albeit clerical and tedious. She was skimming through it when somebody tapped her on her shoulder.

Cosima turned around, astonished at who her eyes landed on. She stood up, tried not to stare but failed.

“Well, look at you, Countess.”

She needed all her focus and a sizable chunk of her brain power to string together those five simple words.

“I told you I’m not a natural blonde,” Delphine said with a coy smile. Apart from the unfamiliar dark hair, she was also looking more casual than usual: jeans instead of tailored slacks; yellow high-cut Chucks instead of high-heeled Italian boots; a messy bun instead of straightened hair or perfectly-tousled curls; a white tank top under a loose fitting dark gray shirt - a sleeve inadvertently sliding from her shoulder. She watched as Delphine tried to pull the sleeve up, hazel eyes looking at her with a shy but knowing smirk - the sight of that alone making Cosima wet her lips.

“I wasn’t expecting you until this weekend,” she gave her kisses on both cheeks when the stubborn sleeve finally stayed in place. Cosima needed a minute or two to respond, her eyes still greedily taking the image of Delphine as a brunette. “I’m actually on holiday until next week,” which explained the casual look. “But something came up in the lab and I needed to be here to report it myself.”

“Uhm,” and Cosima let out a nervous breath, compensating for her sudden inability to utter a word with what she could only hope to be an endearing smile. “I’m sorry to barge in early. It’s just that…I wanted to see you sooner…”

Delphine gave her a demure grin before biting her lower lip in what looked like a mix of happiness and hesitation at seeing her. “Let’s get you set up in my apartment then,” and she started walking towards the exit. “Shall we?” She asked, the over-the-shoulder look short-circuiting Cosima’s brain, making her wordlessly stand in the lobby. 

When Delphine’s brows furrowed, Cosima hurriedly picked up her bag to catch up with her - but her eyes zoomed in on the spatter of beauty marks just below her nape, making her remember the dream and why she’s here.

\----- 

There was an unusual awkward silence when they arrived at Delphine’s apartment – a far cry from their boisterous conversations in the short, 15-minute cab ride from Pasteur about Delphine’s work and Cosima’s dissertation. But even amidst animated chatter, Cosima sensed that Delphine was subtly keeping her distance: sitting a bit farther from her on the backseat of the car; standing two feet away in the small elevator that slowly brought them six floors up; and quickly leaving her alone in the living room as soon as the door closed, using the need to tidy up as a convenient excuse. 

She set her bag down on the sofa before taking off her coat. Delphine’s apartment, which used to be her grandfather’s secret art studio, was more charming in person. Its all-white interiors showcased framed abstract paintings and as she took a closer look at the artist’s signatures, she was surprised to find a few of Felix’s smaller artworks adorning the walls. At first, she only recognized the portion that Delphine converted into a study – a space that probably used to have a small dining table. But standing in the center of the living room now, Cosima could see why a painter would use this as a studio.

The Auteuil apartment was quiet and unassuming, perfect for someone who needed to shut off the world as they work. The tall glass windows in the living room provided not only abundant natural light but also a bird’s eye view of the surrounding streets and buildings. In her untrained eye, the entire place seemed built to be a spot where one can quietly observe the world from their private keyhole.

But the anxiety of being in Delphine’s space was making her claustrophobic. Walking towards one of the windows, Cosima noticed that it led to a small balcony. The outdoor space immediately drew her in, the sight of a foreign city making her momentarily forget about her fears.

“So how long are you staying for?” Delphine asked as she set down two cups on the coffee table, prompting Cosima to reluctantly head back in.

“I suppose it’s up to you, really,” Cosima said as she took a sip. She grinned when she tasted chai tea before her nerves took over her entire being once again. “Look, I just wanted to say something which I couldn’t really do over Skype or over the phone…” She said, starting something she knew she would never be able to take back. “Well, here goes,” she studied Delphine closely - unsure if the lip-biting was a good thing or a bad thing. “Ever since we were last together in Minneapolis - ”

“Cosima, before you say anything else…” And the tone in which Delphine said her name gave her an inkling that the lip-biting may be a bad sign – a way for Delphine to delay saying something that could hurt her. “I have to…There’s something I have to tell you.”

* _Buzz*_

The doorbell in the apartment rang and all Cosima could do was pull the blanket closer to her chest. Apart from going to the bathroom and shutting the curtains, she hadn’t moved out of her bed since coming home to see the other half of the closet and bookshelves empty. Shay picked a good day to pack up her things: Monday, when Cosima would be busy coding for the HPO software at the Bioinformatics lab from sun up to sun down. There was no warning, no note - just empty spaces and an ordinary keychain on her desk. She knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. People normally moved out of apartments they shared with their exes after all.

But the guilt hit her out of the blue while she sat by her desk, staring at the key ring - at her house keys and at the gold engagement ring they’re sandwiching. It was more than an insignia of a break-up – it represented almost three years of her life down the drain; another person who loved her that she monumentally let down; another fuck-up to add to the long list of fuck-ups she’d already done.

She was replaying what turned out to be her last argument with Shay for the nth time when her phone buzzed. She was about to turn it off, but the name and the picture on the screen stopped her.

“ _Cosima? Are you in your apartment? I’m at your door and nobody’s answering. Where are you?_ ” She didn’t even get a chance to say a sad _Hello_ but Delphine’s voice – both heard through the phone and through the apartment walls – got her up from her bed, grabbing an oversized cardigan on the way to the door for a semblance of modesty because she only had a thin tank top and sleeping shorts on. 

“ _What are you doing here?_ ” And amidst her crippling self-loathing, Cosima couldn’t help but smile as she got wrapped up in a hug. “ _I thought you’d be off to France by now._ ” She closed her eyes at the scent of Delphine’s shampoo.

“ _I had to be here,_ ” Delphine said, letting her go and absently tousling her blonde curls. “ _After our Skype yesterday, I changed my flight. I fly out to Paris tomorrow from here. I won’t be back in San Francisco until late August and I just…I can’t leave without seeing you. I can’t let you be sad on your own._ ” She rolled in her suitcase and from her handbag she pulled out a brown bag. “ _I brought the truffles I promised,_ ” she said with a sympathetic smile, “ _and I brought wine – for me, so you can drown your sorrows with alcohol through me._ ”

Cosima was assaulted by a slew of emotions – of despair over what happened with Shay, but also of relief that Delphine was actually here, hoping to help her carry the weight of sadness and guilt that hung heavy on her shoulders. She couldn’t help but lean in for another hug, seeking for comfort and warmth she didn’t know if she even deserved.

* _Buzz*_

The pizzas that Delphine ordered from the cab arrived at the most inopportune time, interrupting the Frenchwoman from saying what she needed to say. But as she walked away to answer the door, Cosima saw the guilt painted all over Delphine’s face, as if hesitant to break potentially bad news to her.

“You met someone, didn’t you?” Cosima asked the minute the door closed.

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Delphine retorted, confirming Cosima’s hunch as the pizzas joined the cups on the coffee table. 

“A man?”

“Oui, a man…A guy…” And Delphine tried to hide the smallest of smirks as she uttered that last quip by opening the pizza boxes.

“Oh, a guy! He’s a guy now, is he?” The nerves Cosima grappled with the entire day had been replaced with resentment. “So tell me, tell me, who is this _guy_?”

“His name is Arnaud…Arnaud Clément. He’s a retired tennis player.”

“What?!?” Cosima couldn’t contain the flecks of anger as she spoke. It dawned on her now - when she saw Delphine watching the French Open she was sitting beside someone, a man, and was looking a bit flushed. She shrugged it off as nothing but a couple of tennis fans getting giddy over a gritty match. “And he’s French?” 

“No Cosima, he’s Irish,” and Cosima couldn’t help but emit a dry chuckle at Delphine’s wry wit, even if her mood had gotten foul as soon as she came in to drink tea. “He’s handsome. He’s charming. And yes, very French...”

“Very French? You mean someone who smokes a lot? Wears an ascot and a beret everyday? Carries a baguette all the time?” Cosima laughed sarcastically. She didn’t know what she laughed at – her lame attempts at joking or the misfortune she suddenly found herself in.

“Why are you being like this?” Delphine scoffed, running her hands through dark hair as she paced around her own apartment.

“Oh fuck!” And Cosima quickly took off her glasses to rub at her eyes as she landed on a realization. “You mean sexy, right? When you said _Very French_ …Is that what you mean? You’re having lots of sex with this Arnaud?”

“Since when do I need to ask your permission to date and have sex with someone else?!” Delphine spat back. “God knows you never asked mine...”

“But we just slept together!” Cosima felt her knees wobble. She needed to sit. This was worse than the worst she prepared for. 

* _Buzz*_

“ _That must be dinner,_ ” Cosima said as she got up from the nest of pillows and winter comforters on the bedroom floor where she and Delphine holed up. She paused the movie just as Cosmo finished singing and dancing to _Make ‘Em Laugh,_ re-wearing the cardigan she took off after her second joint when she felt too hot.

“ _Careful, careful,_ ” Delphine said, grabbing the wine she’d been drinking straight from the bottle as Cosima walked to the door, her cheeks pink from both the alcohol and from laughing way too much.

“ _You know what Shay said the last time we fought?_ ” Cosima started tattling when she got back to their pillow fort, unpausing Singin’ in the Rain as she handed Delphine her chow mein and egg rolls. “ _She said that she wanted to break up early this year but stayed because she wanted to figure out what was wrong with me.”_

 _“That doesn’t sound nice,”_ Delphine took a swig of the wine, _“and what did she figure out?”_

 _“Not nice,”_ Cosima said with a nod. “ _Ironically, she said I was never there,_ ” and they both laughed even when it wasn’t funny. _“That I’m just physically with her and that's not enough...That in the last four months of observing me and thinking about it, my mind, my soul, and my heart were all somewhere else - all just pretending to be with her...And she said it in such a way that it sounded like some transcendental bullshit riddle that I can’t solve._ ”

“ _I’m sorry to hear that,_ ” Delphine said, eyes transfixed on her and not on her father’s favorite film.

It was hard for Cosima to not drown in the tenderness of the hazel gaze. “ _My father loved this movie so much,_ ” she said to snap out of looking at Delphine’s eyes and lips.

“ _I know,_ ” and Delphine nodded. “ _He loved it so much that he named you after it – after Cosmo._ ”

Cosima nodded, a smirk forming on her lips. “ _I wonder what he’s saying right now about this. Fuck! I haven’t even told my mother that there’s no more wedding._ ” 

“ _Well, that all depends on what you plan to do now._ ” And even if she was tipsy, Delphine still made that face she makes when eating fast food – a slight crinkle of the nose before digging in. “ _Your concern about telling Sally would be moot if you’re going to work to make Shay take you back._ ”

“ _Moot?_ ” Cosima teased, copying the accented way Delphine said the word. She was amused and enamored by the blonde’s reaction - how she could be shy and adorable all at the same time without even trying, and probably without even knowing.

“ _I forget how cute you can be sometimes,_ ” and Delphine bit her lower lip. “ _But don’t change the subject._ ”

 _“We’re through.”_ Cosima swallowed a vegetable dumpling and shrugged. “ _It may be transcendental bullshit, but she was right, you know. My mind is set on my diss. I have no idea where my soul is. With all the crap I’ve done, I’m not sure if I even have one,”_ and Delphine shook her head, not agreeing with Cosima’s opinion.

 _“As for my heart…_ ”

And right on cue, Gene Kelly began to sing You Were Meant for Me, filling the bedroom with words about how life was a song until someone came along. 

Cosima glanced at Delphine, who quickly averted her eyes from her to watch the scene instead. The blonde's breath hitched, her lips slightly parted - the film and the song getting the best of her composure. Still, Cosima watched her, and whatever explanation she had for her heart suddenly fluttered away.

“ _You were meant for me,_ ” for some unknown reason, Cosima found herself singing along, catching Delphine’s attention. “ _And I was meant for you,_ ” the unknown reason paired with the privacy of their nook and the weed she smoked gave her the courage she never had around the tall blonde. “ _But I’m content,”_ and Cosima inched closer, _“the angels must have sent you,_ ” and for once, she allowed herself to swim in Delphine’s gaze. “ _And they meant you just for me._ ”

The movie and the Chinese take-out were all forgotten as soon as Delphine captured her lips with her mouth. She allowed herself to be surprised, to let the blonde dictate the pace and the depth of the kiss. And as Cosima kissed back, there was a part of her that was expecting Delphine to pull away - to wise up and realize she didn’t want this complication, didn’t want her and her baggage. But whatever hesitation Cosima had over the sudden turn of events drifted away when the blonde slipped out her tongue, tasting her bottom lip and letting out a low moan. When their tongues met, Delphine reached out to hold her close – removing her glasses and her cardigan in the process.

Their kisses grew in passion, and Cosima held on to Delphine’s hips when a palm began cupping her breast through her tank top. Cosima moved, accommodating Delphine who swung her legs to straddle her. She immediately latched on to the blonde’s neck with her lips as her hands hiked up Delphine’s shirt - fingertips drawing circles on her stomach, prompting the blonde to remove her own shirt. Without thinking, Cosima pulled up her tank top before unclasping Delphine’s bra.

Both naked from the waist up, Cosima breathed out her approval and arousal as Delphine toyed with a nipple. She smoldered in want, her mouth travelling to the valley between the blonde’s breasts – peppering the skin there with kisses and playful nips that would definitely leave marks. She heard Delphine whimper, her other hand clutching the back of her head, directing her to a creamy breast. She looked up, surprised when her eyes met Delphine’s, mouth agape as she watched Cosima capture a nipple in between her lips.

She popped the button of Delphine’s jeans when her hips began to buck, pulling down the zipper as she made room for her hand. Cosima felt Delphine hold her breath as her fingers met the pool of moisture beneath her underwear for the first time. She watched her move above her, eyes shut, squeaking when her fingers circled her clit. She carefully laid Delphine down on the comforter and as she hovered above her, she couldn’t help but kiss her way up from her hips to her neck to her lips.

“ _Tell me where you want this to go,_ ” Cosima said before Delphine pulled her down for a breathtaking kiss.

“ _I want you,_ ” Delphine whispered as Cosima palmed her breast. “ _J'ai vraiment envie de toi._ ”

She could feel herself throbbing as she pulled down Delphine’s pants, her eyes taking in long legs and trimmed dark blonde hair. Cosima removed her own shorts and soaked underwear in one swift pull, throwing them haphazardly on the bed. This close, she could smell the blonde’s arousal and she was driven to get a taste to go with the scent.

“ _Cosima!_ ” And Delphine held on to the back of her head, pulling at her locks while she parted her with her tongue, giving more of herself for Cosima to taste. The room got filled with the sounds from the TV and the moans and whimpers of the trembling blonde beneath her. Cosima’s fingers joined her mouth, teasing at Delphine’s entrance before gently thrusting one, then two fingers in – her cheeks drenched with the Frenchwoman’s desire.

“ _Come here,_ ” Delphine said, the hand clutching Cosima’s head trailing to her face to get her attention. “ _Come up here and kiss me._ ”

Cosima couldn’t deny her and she couldn’t deny herself. When she got up there, Delphine kissed her ferociously, humming at tasting herself on Cosima’s lips. She rested her head on the blonde’s neck as her fingers went in and out, the heel of her palm flat against her heat. As Delphine’s legs wrapped around her waist, Cosima could feel the walls tightening around her curled fingers, the blonde’s impending fall minutes away.

She lifted her head when Delphine shuddered underneath her, the sound of her release filling the confines of her apartment as her arms held on tight around Cosima’s shoulders. She wanted to see, she needed to know if Delphine was full of regret over what just happened. But when she looked up, she was concerned when she saw tears falling from the blonde’s eyes.

“ _Hey…Are you okay?_ ” Cosima asked, propped up on an elbow and trying to soothe Delphine by kissing away the tears she could reach.

“ _Yes,_ ” and Delphine sat up. “ _I’m just…I’m feeling so many things right now._ ”

“ _Some good things I hope?_ ” Cosima murmured, still uncertain if she just made a huge mistake.

In response, Delphine lifted Cosima’s hand, kissing the pads of her moistened fingers. “ _I want to take care of you too,_ ” the blonde said, and in her eyes Cosima could see the eagerness to reciprocate, “ _I just…I don’t…_ ” along with the anxiety at not knowing what to do.

“ _Come,_ ” and Cosima helped Delphine stand up. She lay down on her bed with Delphine lying by her side. Their eyes unwaveringly looked at each other as she held her hand, guiding them slowly down towards the mouth of her arousal, directing Delphine’s fingers with her own.

What the blonde lacked in experience, she made up for with gentleness and sincerity. She was wrapped in her arms - one hand caressing her breast, the other worshipping her nub. Delphine whispered in her ear words in French that sent more shivers down her spine. She understood a few and hoped that the lengthier phrases were conveying pleasure. Cosima heard the words _bien_ and _amour_ and it was enough to put her mind at ease that at least Delphine did not regret her touch. She opened her eyes and moaned when fingers tentatively pushed into her searing heat. Seeing Delphine, eyes lidded and lips moaning and grunting, Cosima couldn’t help but spread her legs wider.

She surrendered to her and her touch, her arousal building at the feel of Delphine’s still wet center riding the back of her thigh. “ _Here, let me,_ ” and Cosima’s fingers replaced a thumb grazing her clit. She watched as Delphine watched her touch herself, making Cosima realize that this was turning her on.

And as she neared her own release, she was surprised when she felt tears forming in the corner of her own eyes. She couldn't help but let them flow, wondering how her tears – that only hours ago were that of guilt and disappointment – were now out of happiness and relief. She quaked under Delphine’s hand, her heart that should be shattered into a million pieces feeling strangely whole, containing nothing but gratitude and love for the woman holding her now.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Delphine murmured, returning the pizza she took in the box. “Cosima, I got a bit drunk…”

“Yeah, but not that drunk,” and Cosima wore her obnoxious, know-it all grin. “I’ve seen you down shot after shot of bourbon with Sarah and still remain sober enough to buy ice and shoot down a guy asking for your number.”

“Okay, you're right. Maybe not that drunk,” Delphine conceded. “But, I think you were upset about Shay and the break-up and you needed a shoulder to cry on…Or sleep with. And that’s all I was – a shoulder to sleep with. You said so yourself years ago - we're bound to see each other naked. So in Minnesota we finally did.”

“And that’s why you kissed me? That’s why you told me you want me? To cheer me up?” And Cosima stared at the floor, palms over her forehead. “Is that all it?”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Delphine answered the question with a question as she sat beside her, lifting Cosima’s face gently by the chin so she would look at her. “If you must know, it was one of the better nights of my life.”

“Really?” Cosima smirked, the conversation becoming a pendulum of emotions.

“Don’t fish,” and Delphine playfully pinched her on the side. “And it was one-time.”

“Well, if we’re keeping accurate count,” Cosima said, grabbing a slice and taking a bite, “it was five times – way more if we’re basing it on orgasms.” She saw Delphine’s face redden before ensnaring her lower lip with her teeth. And realizing that she still had a shot, Cosima took her chance. 

“Come on, Countess,” she tenderly pleaded, “you don’t think it’s a good idea? You and me. Us? Together?” She had a big speech ready and those words were nowhere part of it.

“I do,” Delphine answered, and for a minute it got Cosima's hopes up. “I did,” but she quickly corrected herself as she stood up from the couch, “seven, six years ago.”

“Right,” Cosima could only shake her head as the pendulum shifted back to a feeling of dejection and rejection.

“Eat,” Delphine tried to say casually while pointing at the pizzas, “we better get going.”

“Why?” Cosima asked, confused. “What are we doing?”

Delphine carried Cosima’s bag to stow it inside the coat closet beside the sofa. “I’m actually playing tennis with Arnaud this afternoon. He’s been looking forward to meeting you this weekend. You might as well meet him now.”

“Oh, you’re kidding!” Cosima’s voice was raised with a mix of irritation and disbelief. “Seriously, Delphine?!?”

“We’re going to hit a few balls with him then watch him practice for this weekend’s charity tennis match,” Delphine mumbled as she made her way to her bedroom. “An afternoon of tennis - it’s going to be lots of fun. And in no way awkward,” she added to convince Cosima and maybe even herself.

\-----

Cosima got her wish to sleep in and wake up just in time for brunch. She smiled lazily, her body still deliciously warm as her hands sought soft skin on the other side of the bed - the feel of holding Delphine close was the only thing missing from her perfect late morning.

She opened her eyes in panic when all she felt were empty sheets.

Cosima sat up, searching for her glasses on the bedside table before realizing they’re not in their usual spot – that what happened last night was so out of the norm, so potentially life-altering that the last thing she should be worried about was where her glasses ended up for the night. She found them lying on the floor next to a half-empty bottle of wine. She bent to retrieve it and as soon as her world got a bit clearer, her stare honed in on the person outside her bedroom.

Delphine’s back was turned to her as she stood by the hotplate in her small kitchen. She could smell pancakes, coffee and tea, peppers sizzling in a pan. She watched as Delphine moved around the space in front of her study – wearing nothing but her cardigan - blonde hair more luminescent in the morning light. 

She carefully stood up, making as little noise as possible as she walked to the kitchen. Cosima gently wrapped her arms around Delphine’s waist, the memories of last night - of how the blonde moved against her, of how they both cried out in shared pleasure - making her bold enough to do that. She smiled when a hand held her arm to tighten the embrace.

“ _Hi,_ ” she mumbled on Delphine’s shoulder, taking in the scent of her gray cardigan mingling with the blonde’s perfume.

“ _Salut,_ ” Delphine said, sautéing peppers before adding the onions in the pan.

“ _Have you been up long?_ ”And Cosima’s hands began to move – one hand traveling north, the other heading south in search of hot flesh.

“ _Non,_ ” the blonde breathed out, flicking the spatula back and forth in the pan. “ _I hope you don’t mind that I’m cooking._ ”

“ _Mind? No, not one bit._ ” And Cosima slowly unzipped the cardigan, marveling at how good it fits Delphine as her fingers traced the outline of a breast. “ _Is this okay?_ ”

Delphine added beaten eggs on the pan and nodded, quivering as Cosima’s fingers gently parted her. “ _Tu peux me faire l'amour quand tu veux,_ ” she managed to say before dropping the spatula to grip the back of Cosima’s head, suddenly not caring about burning the frittata. 

Cosima ate a couple of pizza slices, washed her hands and checked her makeup as she waited for Delphine to change into her tennis clothes. With the way this day turned out, she had no choice but to just go through the motions and preserve whatever small dignity and pride she still had left. She would have all the time in the world to mope about Delphine and her guy once she’s out of Paris.

She retreated back to the volatile sanctuary of the small balcony, looking down on the streets below and wondering how and why it took her so long to act on her feelings for Delphine. She couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic grin, wishing she could say that she just recently realized her feelings for her. But that would be a lie, because Cosima had known that whatever she and Delphine shared had set the bar for every subsequent platonic or romantic relationship in her life. She felt tears escaping from her eyes, quickly wiping them away at the sound of a door opening.

“Cosima?” Delphine’s voice was soft, too soft and gentle for someone who just wanted to be friends.

“Yeah?” And she forced her facial muscles to make an enthusiastic smile.

“Can you zip me up?”

She nodded, walking to where Delphine was standing, her fingers setting aside long chestnut hair as she pulled the zipper up. It’s a nice tennis dress – a mix of white, navy and orange that accentuated the Frenchwoman’s figure and long legs. She wordlessly followed her, pausing in the apartment’s hallway as Delphine put on a light coat.

“The stadium is not far from here,” Delphine said, and with every step she took in the streets of Auteuil, Cosima felt like she was walking towards one of the biggest heartbreaks of her life.

“ _So are you seeing anyone?_ ” Cosima couldn’t help but ask as she took a portion of the frittata that Delphine was able to salvage from burning in the pan. She had forgotten how they managed to move to the small dining table in the corner of her apartment after Delphine came on her hand.

“ _Non,_ ” Delphine said with a reserved smile and a shake of her head. “ _We’re in our 30s, Cosima,_ ” and she took a sip of coffee, “ _and dating is tiring. I would only go out with someone who I really like – who I can see a future with._ ” She made sure to look at Cosima in the eye when she uttered that last sentence.

Cosima wanted to talk about what happened last night – why it happened and what happens after. But as she opened her mouth, the key ring on her desk that Shay left when she moved out caught the light, making her remember her most pervasive thoughts just before Delphine showed up at her doorstep.

_Another person who loves her that she would monumentally let down_

_Another fuck-up to add to the long list of fuck-ups she’d already done_

She stayed silent as they ate brunch, wishing she could have time to figure things out. Delphine looked at her, as if waiting for her to say the right things or just say anything. She slunk to the sink, using the dishes as an excuse, when Delphine took a shower. Cosima didn’t know what to do, but all she knew was that she wanted to spend more time with Delphine.

Two hours later though, her colder demeanor rubbed off on the blonde who refused her offer to come with her to the airport, promising instead to call once she arrived in Paris. She rolled her suitcase by the door and Delphine meekly returned the kiss she gave her.

She closed the door, choosing not to watch Delphine leave, paralyzed in fear at how much more she could hurt someone who's given her so much without asking for anything in return.

Cosima wished that the walk to the stadium that Delphine called “The Bullring” would be longer, but it only took them a few turns and a walk through a park with greenhouses all in the span of 15 minutes to get to Stade Roland Garros. Delphine approached a burly security guard by the entrance, speaking in hurried French before being let in to the tennis complex.

There were only a few people inside the sprawling grounds, making her remember Delphine explaining to her during their walk that normally, nobody could play in the stadium’s tennis courts if there’s no on-going tournament. But the French tennis gods allowed Arnaud - the current captain of France's Davis Cup team - to practice today in preparation for the weekend’s charity event.

“They want to build another court in the gardens we passed,” Delphine explained as they climb the stairs to enter the Bullring. “But this court would always be my favorite…”

“Yeah? Why?” Cosima tried to marvel at the cylindrical shape of the court to not let her feelings about meeting Arnaud show. 

“It’s not the newest,” Delphine said as they reached the last few flights of stairs, “not the easiest court to watch a match in,” and they landed by the seats that provide the best vantage point of the sunken tennis court. “But to me it’s the most beautiful, imperfections and all.”

A field of orange engulfed Cosima’s vision. Delphine was right – it looked more like The Colosseum than a tennis court, and it's beautiful and unique in so many ways. But as she filed every detail of Delphine's favorite tennis court, she noticed a shirtless man with wavy brown hair swinging his racquet to return a ball to the other side of the beautiful court. When the shot was made, he casually rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his boyishly handsome face.

“That’s Arnaud,” Delphine said as she tried to lead her down another flight of stairs to get on the court.

“Oh God, Countess! You could have at least found someone a bit good looking.” Cosima opted to use humor as a defense mechanism. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin this for Delphine, knowing that she wouldn’t go out with this guy if she didn’t like him – if she didn’t see a future with him.

The Frenchwoman could only smile at her joke as she headed down the court. She turned around, dark curls swaying before being tied in a bun, and was surprised that Cosima remained planted on the spot just above the inner stadium seats.

“Cosima?” Delphine’s puppy dog eyes were bathed in curiosity and the sun’s afterglow.

“You know, Del…” Cosima said, “I’m sure he’s a fine tennis player. I just…I can’t do this.” She knew for certain being here now that she wouldn’t be able to spend an afternoon watching Delphine and Arnaud without losing it.

The curiosity in Delphine’s eyes was replaced with concern. She walked back towards Cosima. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Cosima nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I think I’ll just go and take a walk in that park we just passed. Maybe get a latte before going back to your apartment…” She took a deep breath to stop her voice from stuttering. “Uhm…And then I think I’m gonna get the last train back to London this evening. There’s one leaving at 9…I think I can still make it.” The smile on her face went in contrast to the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

And for the first time today, Delphine was the one looking dejected. “You don’t have to leave.”

Cosima let out a sigh that she masked as a snicker. “I think I do.” She tried to keep her composure as Delphine reached inside her tennis bag.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she handed the apartment keys.

“Oh no, no. Don’t be,” and in an effort to not make Delphine feel guilty, Cosima reached in for a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you next week on Skype – root beer float Tuesdays,” she threw in the best smile she could manage. “Go on,” she added when she saw Arnaud waving at them. 

Delphine stood in front of her and nodded with a trite smile before going down to the court. Cosima looked at the keys in her palm before watching in sadness as Arnaud welcomed Delphine with an embrace and a lingering kiss. She closed her eyes, allowed a couple of tears to fall, before wiping them away and leaving the Bullring.

She let her feet take her out of Stade Roland Garros, fighting the urge to turn back in every step that took her away from Delphine. Cosima crossed the street, retracing the path back to the Frenchwoman’s apartment while remembering the words she wanted to tell her, words she thought about the entire time she was in London. She was going to say something cheesy – how ever since Gene got sick, she had forgotten who she was; about how she had started to feel good about herself again ever since that day in Minneapolis. How she realized hours after Delphine left for Paris that she didn’t really need much to be happy. She didn’t need a PhD, a hit show, a cutting-edge scientific endeavor – she just needed Delphine.

Because she loves her. It’s that plain and simple.

And now that she’d realized all that, Delphine had used her good senses to finally give up on her. It was a sensible choice, Cosima thought - and this Arnaud could really make her happy, someone who could give her the love she thoroughly deserved. 

Cosima put her cold, clammy hands in the pocket of her coat to generate warmth and make herself feel better just enough to not cry along the streets of Paris. She looked at the gardens: its greenhouses, the fountains, statues, and sculptures nestling the lush greenery. She thought it would be oh so romantic, her coming here almost unannounced, surprising Delphine with a declaration of a love that for so long Cosima thought was too good for her. 

She thought of all the chances she wasted. The first night they met; the mistake of inviting Emi aboard the boat instead of begging Delphine to join them; under the stars in Lake Tahoe; all those times when she chose alcohol and random hookups instead of just confronting her feelings; the day after Sarah’s wedding when she could have stayed and talked to Delphine to know where they stood instead of going back to Minnesota - sure about her education, but terribly unsure about the life she’s building and the person she's building that life with. Her thoughts swam in all things Delphine - to the point where she could hear her voice calling her name.

Cosima walked on, glancing every once in a while to see the beauty amidst the chaos she felt swirling deep inside her. She saw the stone stair steps and the green garden benches ahead, realizing that she’s a few minutes away from reaching the main street they passed. Her barebones plan didn’t go this far, but what she said to Delphine - a latte while buying a last-minute train ticket to London before heading back to her apartment to get her things - seemed plausible enough. That could eat a couple of hours and Cosima figured she could just wait in the train station. If she missed out on the last train, she’d get a cheap room nearby so she could head out in the morning. 

As she neared the stair steps, Cosima couldn’t seem to drown out Delphine’s voice - her ears still playing a cruel joke on her as her shoes crunched the pebbled garden pathways.

She slowed down when the voice calling her name seemed to be getting louder, more urgent.

She stopped when the familiar timber and French lilt were joined by hurried footsteps.

 _Turn around_ , something inside Cosima pleaded. If she ended up like a fool for believing, no one would know anyway.

So she did.

She had been a fool countless of times before. But she wasn’t now – for when she looked back, Delphine was running towards her.

“Cosima!” And she was tempted to meet her halfway, but the sight of Delphine – tennis bag falling from her shoulders to the ground as she neared her – made her stand by the steps, dumbfounded.

“Don’t go,” were the first words that came out of Delphine’s lips as she caught her breath, "please don't leave." Cosima could feel the tears she had suppressed beginning to cloud her vision. “I thought I got rid of you,” and Delphine took her hand and placed it on top of her chest, locking it with both hands. “But you’re still here,” and under Cosima's palm, she could feel the thunderous beating of Delphine's heart. “You never really left.” 

“I love you,” was all Cosima could say – it was only three out of the many words she planned to tell her when she got to Paris. But it was all that mattered. With tears falling from her eyes, she leaned in for a kiss. She held onto her tight - her arms around Delphine’s neck, feeling light as a feather for the first time in years when the kiss was returned. Cosima was surprised when she got lifted up, instinctively wrapping her legs around Delphine’s waist.

She gently let her go, but not before capturing Cosima’s lips in another searing kiss. “Cosima…if you go behind my back,” and Cosima kissed her, “lead me on” and Delphine kissed the corner of her lips, “or let me down, I will murder you with a razor - ”

Cosima silenced Delphine’s fears with a smile as she rested her forehead on hers. “I won’t,” she promised reverently. “I swear. I won’t. I’m yours, Delphine. For as long as you want me in your life, I'm yours.”

Delphine enveloped her in a tight embrace, placing sensual kisses on the side of her face and her neck. “Et je t'aime aussi,” she whispered, and even if her French was poor, she felt the magnitude of Delphine’s words and the feelings behind it. Cosima stopped fighting her tears, letting them roll down her cheeks as she finally allowed herself to accept a love that might be more than she deserved, but one she promised to keep and return for as long as Delphine would let her.

“Come,” Delphine said, holding Cosima’s hand in hers. “Let’s not waste anymore time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you reached the end of 2014! What do you think? :) Let me know. 
> 
> This chapter was something I enjoyed writing and putting up here finally after just thinking about it. Huge thank you to everybody who had been very patient with this story even amidst the series of bad timing, and push-and-pull over the years. Thank you to to Corsan, Lana_Maundrell, and durianmush for the numerous conversations - snippets of which have been integrated not only in this chapter but also in this story in general. 
> 
> I hope you are all doing well and keeping safe. See you in 2015!


	12. August 6, 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some ruminations, some science all from Delphine's perspective

Out of all the things Delphine imagined she’d be doing in this vacation, sneaking out of the villa at the crack of dawn was low on the probability list. The mere fact that she was able to get up from bed undetected was no small feat, given Cosima’s penchant for spooning and for waking up earlier than usual to swim a few laps in the private pool. The image of her petite chérie sleepily reaching in - only to find nothing beside her but a hurried note left by the pillows, felt like a hundred pinpricks to Delphine’s heart. But as she looked towards the narrow road ahead, she knew that she made the right choice and picked the right time to do what she had to do.

The drive continued as the timid light of a new morning began to seep through the tall fruit-bearing trees that canopied the road. Delphine took a deep breath as she watched the unfamiliar tropical sights, feeling nothing but gratitude for being here now and for how much her life had changed in the span of a year. She still yearned for more – more time with Cosima, more memories with Cosima – even if most days, she's already filled to the brim with thoughts of her and the love she has for her. It surprised her how much room her heart continued to make for the cheeky brunette as their days together rolled into weeks and into months. And while tomorrows are never promised, it never stopped Delphine from hoping that Cosima would be part of whatever number of tomorrows the future had in store for her. 

Their life together wasn’t always easy: with her work and research keeping her busy on both sides of the Atlantic, and with Cosima shuttling between Minneapolis and San Francisco to complete her doctorate. There were days when they’re short with each other, unable to leave the frustrations and roadblocks of their scientific endeavors in their labs and ultimately bringing them home. Still, Delphine clung onto the only reason she could truly come up with whenever she gets asked what’s different now that she’s with Cosima.

_“It feels right.”_

It felt right the first time they shared a bed all those months ago in Minnesota, even if Cosima’s reaction in the morning after started off as perfect before regressing to disheartening. She tried to not let the pain show as she walked away, urging reason and logic to govern her emotions as she made her way to the airport for the costly, last minute flight she managed to arrange just so she could be there for the heartbroken brunette.

_“And it was a one-time thing,”_ she remembered reasoning to Sarah a week after getting settled in her Auteuil apartment. What happened between them - how her musings about making love with Cosima paled in comparison to the real deal - was too life-altering to conceal and keep to herself. She needed to tell someone or she’s going to remember and overthink every little detail, every little sound, every little touch.

_“You’re talking as if you don’t know Cos,”_ Sarah said, fresh from picking up Kira from daycare before accepting the video call, _“like you don’t speak and understand Cosimanese.”_

Delphine laughed at the irony of it all. _“Believe me I’m not as fluent as you think I am.”_

_“But you are,”_ Sarah insisted. _“You’ve been fluent from the get-go, you just don’t know it...No, scratch that - you’re just trying to deny it, which never made any sense.”_ There was a considerable pause as Delphine tried to keep a straight face. _“If you weren’t, you would have slept with her that first night in Berkeley. Or in Tahoe. You waited for her because you knew she should start it - that she should voice it out, make some kind of first move. So tell me, was it worth the wait?”_

Her answer came in the form of a blush so red that Sarah immediately caught it even through a laptop screen. _“I want more,”_ Delphine confessed. She could feel the heat of the blush spreading from her cheeks to her ears in a matter of seconds. _“I’ve always wanted more with Cosima - that never really changed. But it’s too soon for her, with Shay and everything that happened or didn’t happen between them. And just like before, it all boils down to bad timing. That never really changed too.”_

_“So wait a little more,”_ Sarah said as if it's the easiest thing in the world to do. _“You’ve waited all these years, what’s a few more months?”_

_“What if it's more than just a few months?”_ Delphine glanced at her oversized shoulder bag behind the laptop where the printed Roland-Garros order of play jutted out. _“What if someone new comes along?”_ Even from where she’s sitting, Arnaud’s phone number scribbled at the top-most part of the paper was visible to her naked eye.

_“Then someone new comes along,”_ Sarah nonchalantly shrugged as she stood up from a kitchen chair to grab a drink. _“The thing is, whether there’s someone or no one new in the near future...You and Cosima happened. And there's no changing that.”_ Delphine watched as Sarah stood by the open fridge in indecision, probably debating if it’s too early for her to open a bottle of beer. _“I bet you a kidney that it’s as life-changing for her as it is for you,”_ she returned to the table with a glass of orange juice instead. 

_“So if someone new comes along while I wait, that’s okay? It’s okay to move on?”_ Delphine asked, surprised that she couldn’t get any sliver of clarity about what happened. _“Is that what you’re saying?”_

_“And you call yourself a double doctor…”_ Sarah said with an amused grin, her chin resting on clasped hands. _“Don’t you get it, blondie? You don’t move on from something like that. You don't move on from Cosima,”_ and Sarah said it with so much belief and conviction. _“Because the possibility and option of you and her would always be on the table - now more than ever because of all the sex you’ve had. Shite...”_ and Sarah took a healthy gulp of her juice, _“...Even when you guys were keeping it PG, she was always an option - the option - for you. No amount of ‘someone new’s’ is going to change that for you or for her.”_ She smirked as she absently wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb. _“Don’t you think it’s funny…”_

_“What is?”_ Delphine’s brows furrowed.

_“We avoided girl talk the entire time we were living together. Look at us now.”_

As the tall trees disappeared from her periphery, Delphine couldn’t help but think that Sarah was right. Arnaud was persistent, even if she repeatedly pushed back his dinner invitations for weeks after they met. But after several frustrating virtual root beer float-Tuesdays - with the American seemingly emotionally unavailable, sending out mixed signals and barely bringing up what happened in Minnesota - going out with Arnaud became Delphine’s way of convincing herself to believe the conclusions she drew about her and Cosima. She figured that sleeping together, apart from it being a way of consoling a dear friend for the disintegration of her engagement, was the universe’s way of correcting their several near misses. 

_“So you're telling me that it's like Final Destination...”_ Felix said to her because of course Sarah would tell him, _“...with the angsty lesbians plot and life-changing, earth-shattering sex?”_ She didn’t get the pop culture reference until he badgered her to watch the films. 

Delphine tried to stop thinking of the past - of how easily things could have not worked for them - by being in the now and looking at the green rice paddy fields misted by the morning dew. Still, the moving image stoked another memory, albeit a more welcome one - of Cosima’s email from her days of backpacking all over Asia. It had a photo of the dreadlocked brunette standing in shin-deep mud in the middle of a rice field, both hands filled with green rice straws.

_“Planting rice is no joke - shit’s hard,”_ and Delphine smiled as she remembered the way Cosima grinned in those photos - a smile that reached her eyes, eyeteeth exposed in glee as she soaked in the new experience. It’s reminiscent of the way she smiled every time they met to go home together to their San Francisco apartment: be it in airports, or in an ordinary café, or whenever she picked her up from the library after losing track of time while researching for her diss.

It wasn’t always easy and Delphine would be lying if she said that she didn’t have any uncertainties about their relationship. _“Long distance never works,”_ Cosima herself conceded in the quiet that followed after hours of making love for the first time since their first time. _“But I promise you,”_ and Cosima wrapped her in her arms, _“I’m going to try like hell to make it work.”_

_“Me too…No matter how difficult, no matter how complicated,”_ Delphine whispered, brushing her lips on the brunette’s arms before turning to face her. _“We can work it out. And we’re going to make it.”_

_“We,”_ Cosima tried out the word with a smile before a batch of tears escaped her eyes. _“You know, when I was walking away from you this afternoon I never thought this would ever happen.”_

_“What? You having your way with me in Paris like you did five times in Minnesota?”_ And Delphine tried to wipe away the tears with a joke uttered in between kisses.

_“That,”_ Cosima let out a breath, _“and how no matter what happens from now, there would always be a We, an Us in the picture.”_

The small van stopped by a non-descript wooden gate flanked by Balinese Hindu home temples already flowing with canang sari offerings. _“It’s our simple way of giving thanks to the Gods for the peace gifted to our lives,”_ Wayan, the caretaker of the villa they’re staying in who kindly drove her here this morning, said the first time she asked: when Delphine watched Cosima put a canang sari on the small home temple by the door of their villa before spending a day in the beach. She found it odd at first - she was never really religious after all.

_“I sleepwalked through years of my life since Dad died,”_ Cosima said when she asked her about it later that day. Her gentle eyes had a lighter shade of brown as her gaze shifted from her to the calming sea in front of them. “ _And being with you – not just now, but this past year…I’ve never felt so at peace about my place under the sun you know."_ Cosima took her hand in hers, tucking blonde curls swept by the sea breeze. _"So that was me giving thanks to whoever is out there for you. For Us. I just love you so much I guess is what I’m trying to say…”_

And as Delphine waited for the wooden gates to open, she couldn’t help but ask for one of Wayan’s canang saris - picking it up from the car's dashboard to place it on the small shrine, thanking whoever’s out there for Cosima and the life they’re sharing and building together.

\-----

The morning excursion was productive, judging from the overflowing basket of Cosima’s favorite fruits that Delphine carried as she made her way back to their villa. Wayan - whose cousin owned the fruit orchard - helped her pick mangoes, rambutans, and pomelos that are sweet and ripe for eating today and in the days they have left before going back to San Francisco. The fresh fruit basket was another one of her surprises for the dreadlocked brunette - which was fitting, Delphine thought, given how this trip to Bali was a huge surprise she managed to pull at the last minute with Jérémie’s help.

Instead of spending the university summer break doing her usual annual allied research in Paris, Berkeley and UCSF requested for Delphine to be a visiting researcher at Kyoto University in preparation for a “10 Years of iPSCs” symposium to be held in San Francisco early next year. She immediately jumped at the chance to do research – no matter how short – in the birthplace of iPSCs with the Nobel-winning scientists who discovered it and continue to work to improve the science.

_“They asked for me personally,”_ she told Cosima as soon as she got home to their apartment after meeting with the dean. _“They read my papers and they were...”_

_“They were what?”_ Cosima asked, swiveling in her chair to face her with an expectant and proud smile that Delphine didn’t know how she lived without for years.

_“They’re impressed,”_ and Delphine closed in on Cosima’s lips, pleased that her research achievements seemed more meaningful now that she could freely exchange inputs and ideas with the one person whose opinions and insights she treasured. Bringing home lab frustrations may be the nature of the beast, but it didn’t diminish the growing fact that the simple act of being able to kiss Cosima after a long day at work had become a constant source of second wind for her. _“They’re interested to learn more about my progress and what else I’ve planned to advance the research,”_ she said as she sat on Cosima’s lap, the brunette instinctively holding her closer.

While the iPSC study that Delphine continued to work on still focused on cutting diseases from the source, it had evolved over the years: from studying how induced pluripotent stem cells could become foundations of safe and effective treatment plans, to how it could be an important tool in studying illnesses, especially rare and poorly understood maladies. It was a practical and realistic shift – with limited research grant funds, focusing on iPSC-based disease modeling instead of regenerative therapies would accomplish more because it cost less. 

But more than saving cents, the shift in focus was an ethical choice. Experimental iPSC treatments - no matter how thoroughly researched and ethically produced, remained highly volatile. And a clinical trial would surely follow suit had she stayed on the treatment research track. The last thing Delphine wanted was to get people desperate enough for a cure to voluntarily experience what Gene did at the tail-end of his treatments. 

The research may have evolved in the years since she got her own lab, but Gene remained the beating heart of Delphine’s iPSC studies. His condition was already so serious when the doctors caught it that she and Cosima immediately focused on viable cures and therapies. They muddled through researching what caused it, given their finite and limited resources and expertise. In recompense for that, Delphine had been hard at work at the lab remodeling Gene's disease – a mysterious lung condition called Diffuse Idiopathic Pulmonary Neuroendocrine Cell Hyperplasia or DIPNECH, that’s characterized by the abnormal overgrowth of certain cells in the lungs which caused his tumors. Nobody knows exactly what triggers it and less than a hundred DIPNECH cases exist in the medical literature due to poor diagnosis. Its initial symptoms: shortness of breath, wheezing, and chronic non-productive coughing, could easily be mistaken for a minor lung infection - or in Gene's case, asthma. 

She knew that part of curing the disease was to take a step back to see it from a wider, bigger picture. Delphine needed to know more about it - to know its intricacies, its development and behavior, and its evolution from something potentially treatable to something fatal. If she just focused on the cure - at developing it with no regard for ethics and with nary a care for piecing the puzzle together, then she's no better than Leekie who's still experimentally treating the serious manifestations of Gene's disease in a clinical trial setting even if there's a big fat question mark on the other side of the equation. She could only scoff whenever she comes across Leekie's articles about it, thinking that you can't cure something you know very little of. That investing in finding a cure should include substantial time and resources in investigating the disease itself. That’s Immunology 101.

At the back of Delphine's mind though, she knew that the shift in her research had also been trying to answer one of her most pressing questions: _Is Gene's disease inheritable?_ And while the lab outputs and test results were always voluminous, she made sure to be on the lookout for clues that could answer that question. She could deal with whatever answers she would get – or so Delphine told herself.

_“Kyoto University is interested to know how iPSC is going to improve diagnosing DIPNECH before it’s too late,”_ Delphine said over a simple pasta dinner. While she walked on eggshells at first when it came to discussing her research with Cosima out of fear that it would open old wounds, the brunette’s reactions to it since they became a couple had always been positive and mired with enthusiasm, curiosity, and pride. 

But Cosima gave her a pensive smile as she slurped her noodles - something that troubled Delphine. _“I’m proud of you, I really am,”_ Cosima assured when she sensed Delphine getting tensed, _“it just made me wonder how different things could have been if we got an accurate diagnosis earlier. Plus, Japan is so far away – and you’d be gone for more than a month.”_

_“Actually,”_ Delphine stood up to take care of the dishes, _“I was going to ask if you're free to go.”_ And as Cosima joined her to start washing their dirty plates, Delphine was relieved to see the pensive smile being replaced by a questioning but softer grin. _“I mentioned that my partner is close to perfecting an HPO software that the lab is going to use to improve diagnosis,”_ and Delphine beamed as Cosima’s soft smile got bigger. _“They want to meet with you - to see if they could try out the software in their labs too. I told them I’d check - but that I have first dibs so…”_

_“Are you serious?”_ Cosima asked excitedly.

_“Oui,”_ and Delphine placed a kiss on Cosima’s cheek as she washed their glasses. _“We started this research together, I’d like for us to continue seeing it through together. I meant what I said all those years ago, mon amour – that this work is as much yours as it is mine.”_

They ended up celebrating the future of their research by making love until daybreak, whispering their pride and adoration for each other as their lips met and their bodies intertwined.

In the weeks before their trip to Kyoto, Delphine often got home to Cosima practicing her HPO software presentation. She would linger by their apartment’s door, hearing snippets of the brunette’s speech which she knew would be great. Sometimes in the middle of the night, Cosima would slip out of their bed, going to their shared home office to rehearse answering possible Q&A questions. Every time, she found herself watching or listening in awe at the way Cosima’s mind works – how she’s always able to make the complex, scientific mumbo-jumbo relatable, more inclusive and participatory, and more applicable in real life. 

And now as Delphine opened the sliding door to their villa’s bedroom, she could hear Cosima from their private, open-air bathroom - only this time, she’s practicing a very different speech.

“I would like to thank everyone for being here to celebrate our wedding…” Delphine was able to make out Cosima’s words even with the shower on, “...for what could only be described as a whirlwind romance. Hahahaha, pause for laughter. Okay, retain that. It’s a good joke...” Delphine couldn’t help but laugh - both at the quip and at Cosima’s conversation with herself. She placed a palm over her mouth to muffle her noises so she could hear her rehearse some more. “But kidding aside...” Cosima cleared her throat and spoke. On the other side of the door, Delphine imagined her fiancée naked, all wet and soapy. “...When people ask how Delphine and I first met, I tell them that we…We grew up together. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah -”

“You’re not seriously going to say blah, blah, blah during our wedding party, are you?” Delphine couldn’t wait it out any longer, opening the door to the bathroom and startling Cosima a bit with her sudden presence.

“I actually thought,” she said, cheekily recovering from the surprise by motioning for Delphine to come join her, “that I won’t have to say that speech when I woke up cold and alone in bed this morning.” The brunette was trying to feign indignation, only for her faux drama to be foiled by the way she intently watched Delphine remove every article of clothing.

Seeing Cosima’s reaction as she took off her underwear made Delphine smolder. “J'aime quand tu me regardes comme ça,” her arousal heightening when she joined her under the stream of hot water. After a year of being together, Cosima’s French had gotten good enough for her to understand some of the usual things Delphine uttered in the heat of the moment. Cosima leaned into her touch, and Delphine couldn’t help but wrap her arms around her waist, coasting light kisses on soapy shoulders as her hands sought delicious pleasure points. 

“I got you your favorite fruits, ma chérie – the ones you couldn’t stop talking about,” Delphine reverted to English, whispering in her ear before her lips playfully suckled an earlobe. “Besides,” she said as she pressed her breasts on her fiancée’s soapy back while her hand travelled ever so slowly downward, “it wouldn’t make sense for me to leave you high and dry while in the surprise honeymoon I planned for us.”

Honeymooning before getting married was a big part of the Bali surprise. The wedding’s a good three weeks away from now: on August 28th, in City Hall, with Delphine taking a one-day leave from work so she and Cosima could pick up her parents from the airport after the short ceremony. When Delphine told them that they won’t be coming to Paris this year, Jacqueline insisted on coming to San Francisco for the small dinner party they’re hosting to celebrate their wedding.

_“We missed Jérémie’s wedding,”_ Jacqueline said in slow, accented English when they told her of their wedding plans, _“we are not going to miss our only daughter’s wedding too. We will be there, and then you can tell us who proposed to whom.”_ And though they were nonplussed in shock the first time she brought Cosima to dinner a few days after she arrived in Paris, Delphine made it perfectly clear that she didn’t care what they thought.

_“I love her,”_ cutting her father off when he said they had “no problems” with her being with a woman for as long as she didn’t share it with the rest of the family or their socialite friends. _“And I don’t care what you or the family would say about how I choose to live my life. I refuse to hide, and I refuse to hide or deny her to anyone.”_ She made sure to say it in English for Cosima’s sake, knowing how much she needed to work on her French.

They stormed out from the first dinner after Delphine and her father spent the better part of the night raising their voices to convince one another to see things from their perspective. But it was Jacqueline who eventually reached out – who invited Cosima for lunch at their posh 7th arrondissement apartment without telling her daughter. _“She just wanted to get to know me better,”_ Cosima said, _“but I think after lunch, it wasn’t me she got to know more. She just kept asking about you – about your life in San Fran.”_

And though he still had his misgivings about her and Cosima, Jean-Barthélémy had been coming around to the fact that his daughter is in a serious relationship with another woman. _“Mon dieu, it is done! Accept Delphy’s choices and let her live her life!”_ Jacqueline angrily said to her husband, putting her foot down when he tried to walk out from dinner on their last night before flying back to the States. _“Learn from our mistakes with Jérémie or you would lose your daughter the way we lost our son.”_

“True,” and Cosima - unsatisfied with the slow trailing of Delphine’s hand on her hips, guided it to where she wanted Delphine’s touch the most. “But although your intentions were pure,” she said, taking a deep, shuddered breath when the pads of Delphine’s fingers dipped into a wetness that had nothing to do with the shower, “I still expect you to make it up to me,” she turned to capture Delphine’s lips with a hungry kiss. “You know how much I hate waking up alone, waking up without you beside me.”

Delphine didn’t need to be told twice as she turned the shower off, kissing Cosima senseless as her fingers teased the mouth of her arousal before her supple fingers gently flicked a needy clit. “Tu me fais me sentir si bien…” Cosima breathed out which only spurred Delphine on. The cheeky brunette’s French had been improving to the point that she could now actively participate in Delphine’s newfound proclivity for talking dirty in bed in her mother tongue.

“Je ne peut m'empècher de caresser ton corps,” Delphine whispered a new, more complicated sentence as she cradled a weighty breast with her free hand, causing Cosima to bend over to ride her fingers thoroughly. 

“You gonna tell me what that means?” Cosima uttered in between moans as Delphine peppered her back with nips, kisses, and licks.

“Let me hear you more and I just might,” and Delphine turned Cosima around, her fingers never leaving her bud as she kissed Cosima – first on her lips, then on her neck, before ravishing her breasts.

“Oh God,” and Cosima watched as Delphine’s tongue swirled around a jutted nipple. “Tu peux me faire l'amour quand tu veux,” she squeaked out, re-echoing the words Delphine herself said the morning after the first time they had sex. The memory made her go down on her knees, planting wet kisses on her soon-to-be wife’s stomach in the short journey down.

“I can’t stop myself from caressing your body,” Delphine supplied, satisfied with the brunette’s response. “Say more,” she urged - her mouth a hair's breadth away from Cosima’s sex.

“Tu peux me prendre dans tout les sens,” Cosima said, mouth agape - fully expecting to be rewarded for her words. “I mean it…Every side…Anytime…Anywhere…”

“Ouais, pas mal, mon amour,” Delphine wondered a bit where Cosima picked that up, and as a reward, she hooked one of her fiancée’s legs over her shoulder - moaning at the first taste of her gushing arousal on her tongue. She looked up, watching as Cosima’s chest heaved and her eyes fluttered shut. She moaned when a hand pushed her face closer to a needy sex, the brunette’s other hand clutching on her damp blonde hair to anchor herself on a now-practiced mouth. Her ears were treated to moans and whines turning into screams, the thrust of Cosima’s hips becoming erratic and frenetic with the pronounced sounds. 

“Je veux un bébé,” Delphine unexpectedly purred as she watched Cosima come down from the high of her release, her mouth still pressing soft kisses on a sensitive center. “Notre fils,” and she stood up so that Cosima could taste herself on her lips, “notre fille.” She couldn’t help but hold onto her tighter as the brunette regained her bearings, knowing that this was the very first time she had uttered those words to another living soul. 

“Are you going to tell me what that means?” Cosima asked, hands already moving to return the favor.

“In time, chérie,” and Delphine began to quake as Cosima plunged her fingers inside her, “in due time.” 

\-----

“You know what I just realized?” Cosima asked, placing gentle kisses on the inside of Delphine’s thighs as her hands caressed stilling hips.

“What?” Delphine said, still shaking from another scorching orgasm as her hands loosened their grip on the bed’s headboard.

“We managed to defile every inch of this villa.” Cosima let out a cackle - the tip of her tongue mischievously poking in between teeth, eyes crinkling in delight and amusement. 

“Ouais,” and Delphine couldn’t help but join in on the laughter as she carefully slid down from sitting on Cosima’s face to lay next to her in bed, “and in only four days, chérie.” 

It felt only yesterday that they were in busy Kansai International Airport, with Cosima convinced that they were boarding a flight back to San Francisco. And while they did spend an entire day seeing the various sights that Bali has to offer, most of their time had been wisely spent taking their honeymoon seriously, enthusiastically mapping out each other’s bodies with hands, lips, and tongues. Besides, they would have time to put on their tourist hats once they rendezvous with Jérémie and his family - who would be arriving from Bangkok tomorrow. The thought of meeting her niece for the first time adding to Delphine’s excitement.

“Four days?” Cosima had one eyebrow incredulously raised as she wiped her mouth and cheeks with the back of her hand. “I must be losing my touch,” she quipped as she reached for her glasses and a glass of water on the bedside table - almost spilling it on the sheets when Delphine playfully pinched her on the side.

“Your touch is just fine, mon amour. It’s better than fine,” and Delphine sat up, leaning on the headboard as Cosima grabbed a plate of fruit before sliding next to her. “So how do you like my surprise?” She asked while Cosima ate a mango cheek with her bare hands. Her fiancee’s answer came in the form of eager nods as she chewed which warmed her heart, her morning trip was both productive and well-appreciated.

The mangoes were gone in a matter of minutes and after washing her hands, Cosima got back to the bed, seemingly with a thought and a memory in mind as she came in for a snuggle. “I know it’s different, but for some reason, being here reminds me a bit of Lake Tahoe. Do you remember that trip?”

“I remember,” Delphine answered simply, in contrast to the detailed memories and feelings that flashed in her mind at the mere mention of the word Tahoe. “The stars, the yurt -”

“The vacation rules we all broke,” and Cosima held on tighter. “Sometimes, I can’t believe we got from there to here…From that time when the thought of kissing you - of letting you know how I felt scared the shit out of me. To now - we’re getting married in a few weeks,” Cosima said aloud, as if trying to remind herself that it’s really happening. “Do you ever wonder what could have happened if…?”

“If I didn’t run after you in Paris?” Delphine asked, realizing that she wasn’t the only one thinking about how easily things could have turned out differently.

“I’ve had nightmares about it,” Cosima confessed, her voice small and unsure.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Delphine could smell the familiar scent of Cosima’s shampoo as she placed a kiss on the top of Cosima’s head – a kiss meant to comfort and silence past fears. When the brunette looked up to face her, she easily sensed the vulnerability and hurt in her eyes.

“It’s silly, really,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve only dreamt it a handful of times – but it’s always the same vivid dream,” and Cosima averted her eyes from her as she played with the edge of the blanket covering their naked bodies. “Feeling very alone and cold in what always feels like a neverending walk in that park…”

“When was the last time you dreamt it?” Delphine curiously asked as she stroked locks of dark hair.

Cosima froze before swinging a leg over Delphine’s thighs, feeling clingier than usual. “This morning…” And the pinpricks that Delphine felt during the morning trip to the orchard returned tenfold. “The panic usually goes away when I wake up next to you, or when I read one of your messages…” They were silent for a while before Cosima let out an uneasy chuckle. “I’m sorry,” she said, still trying to smile away her less than optimistic thoughts. “I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now.”

Delphine lifted her fiancee’s face gently by the chin, leaning down to kiss her. “You want to know what was going through my mind then?” She offered and Cosima nodded softly. “I watched you walk away and all I kept thinking about was how much I’d want to show you around Paris…” The diffident smile on her future wife’s face urged Delphine to expound on her thoughts. “I wanted to take you to where I went to elementary school, so I could point to you the window I broke with my tennis racquet.”

Her words achieved their aim of making Cosima think of less dour thoughts. “Where else would you take me?”

Delphine bit her lower lip, trying to choose the right words to make the brunette forget her bad dream. “I would have taken you to the palmariums of Jardin des Serres d’auteuil,” booping her pierced nose with a finger, “maybe even have a cup of tea inside, so you wouldn’t have nightmares about one of my favorite parks.” 

“Ooh,” and Cosima rubbed her palm on Delphine’s hip. “Say more.”

“I would take you to the wine bar where I got drunk for the first time and order you the drink that got me inebriated,” Delphine said, happy to oblige her petite chérie. “Then we will sober up in my favorite café. Or if you’re up to it, I’d take you to this chalet restaurant in the middle of a lake – so I can figure out if you liked the boat ride more than the actual food.”

She momentarily stopped talking when Cosima reached in to kiss her on the cheek, the simple press of lips making her heart flutter. “While I was on court preparing to play tennis, I was thinking that we would have time for that – maybe not then, but in the future…” Delphine could remember when the tides changed for her that day, when she glanced to where she and Cosima were standing just a few minutes ago and saw nothing but empty stadium seats. “I looked up and you were gone, and it hit me – I can’t move on from you and from what happened in Minnesota…And I don’t want to. When you were gone, it dawned on me that the only future I want is a future with you in it. When I realized that, nothing else mattered. I knew I had to run after you.”

“You know Countess,” and Cosima scooted to sit up, “you can be very romantic and cheesy sometimes.” She put her head on Delphine’s shoulder, “I gotta tell you, I did not see that coming,” and she held onto her arm. “Just so you know, walking away from you was both difficult and heartbreaking. It was one of the hardest things I had to do.”

“I know the feeling, mon amour,” it was her turn to be unexpectedly vulnerable, “I know the feeling of walking away from you, how hard and painful that is.” And even if they’re 8,000 miles away from San Francisco, Delphine couldn’t help but feel like she was back in that alley behind that restaurant – having that ugly argument before breaking off their friendship. It was a necessary pain, but she was still hoping for Cosima to run after her as she walked away.

“I’m sorry,” Cosima immediately cottoned on to what Delphine was referring to. “I was a mess and -“

“I know,” Delphine caressed her face, hoping to convey that there was no need for apologies. “That year was hard for you…with Gene slipping away and -”

“It’s not just because of Dad.” Cosima’s hand clutched her arm tighter, “I think I knew early on that I have feelings for you…that I love you. But I was more dead-set on self-destructing than confronting anything. It was easier to be busy at work, and to be drunk when I’m not working. And then you began dating, it was becoming serious, and I…I couldn’t deal with it…”

Delphine sighed as she entwined her hand with Cosima’s. “I avoided that restaurant, that alley, for the longest time,” she admitted. “But there was this one time that I had to meet some colleagues in that same restaurant. You’ve been gone for a year when that happened, and I remembered how much I wanted to call you after. I even ask Scott for your new number...Just so I can tell you how proud I am that you’ve landed on your feet – like I know you always would.”

“I never got to say thank you,” Cosima said, drawing random patterns on Delphine’s palm with her fingers. 

“What for, chérie?”

“For everything…” Cosima smiled. “For being there for me, for trying to save Dad. And for saving me...” 

“You never needed saving,” Delphine said, not understanding what she meant. 

“Your diss saved me.” Cosima soothingly rubbed her thumb on the top of Delphine’s hand as she spoke. “When I hit rock bottom, I held on to the one thing I have left of you – your diss, your words, your science…” She reverently placed a kiss on the shoulder she was leaning on and Delphine melted both at her words and gestures. “Even when we weren’t talking after you broke up with me, after you dumped me as your friend…Even when I was in Minnesota…Even when I was with Shay…There has always been a part of me - a part of my heart - that remained tethered to you. And every time I read your dissertation, I feel it.”

“Cosima…” Rendered speechless, all Delphine could say was her name. 

Cosima looked at her with teary eyes. “That tether was the reason why I landed on my feet after everything that happened, after every wrong thing I’ve done. That tether – that love I have for you – was strong enough for me to find my way back. So in my book, you saved me. I love you so much, Delphine…Thank you for you.” She eked out a laugh as she wiped the corners of her eyes. “And there goes my wedding speech.” 

“Je t'aime,” the simplest words that described her feelings about the woman beside her easily tumbled out of her lips. “And I can’t wait to be your wife.” She didn’t have a wedding speech prepared, sure that she didn’t possess Cosima’s gift of gab. She kissed her passionately instead, trying - although it would be in vain - to pour all her love, pride, and devotion for Cosima, hoping that her actions could make up for her lack of eloquent words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa! 2015 took a while to write with work swallowing me whole for a month before regurgitating me just in time for the holidays. I promise that will try to keep updating as scheduled for as long as I'm not busy with life outside AO3 :D.
> 
> Thank you all so much for continuing to read this story and for being patient :). I hope you are doing well as we all prepare to spend a different kind of holiday season this year. As always, let me know what you think in the comments. My huge thanks to Corsan, Lana_Maundrell, durianmush, and Shadow_fax for the conversations along the way :D.


	13. August 6, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of everything and then some :)

The sound of the key unlocking the door to their home had always been music to Cosima’s ears. And on a particularly long day like today when life threw curveballs her way at almost every turn, the mere act of reading the subtly engraved  _ Cormier et Niehaus  _ on the lining of their mail slot before turning the knob was the perfect introduction to her temporary salvation, necessary in preparing to face whatever the next day has in store. 

Based on looks alone, the single-family home she and Delphine own still had a long way to go before becoming a proper sanctuary. Even before getting hitched they’ve planned on owning something substantial together, cautiously looking at their finances every month to land on a figure that wouldn’t wipe out their savings. Landing on a number was easy, but it took a lot of expectations management for them to finally bite the bullet on the Portola Place property, given their limited budget and their firm stance to not accept money from their parents.

“ _ We’ll have to drive everywhere for everything, _ ” Cosima said as a form of tepid criticism after viewing the house. And while Delphine agreed as she navigated the Sidekick back to their Outer Mission apartment, a one-bedroom that had gotten too small for them, they both knew that the Portola Place house was the best option after compromises. It was well within their budget, they’d own instead of renting, they’d improve it together and live in it - those were the only reasons that mattered, as cheesy as they sounded. The long and short of it was that the house has all the potential to grow with them - with its three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a sizable garage - all while being essentially smacked in the middle of UCSF and Berkeley. 

In the end, it wasn’t hard to compromise because the house has its charms. The exteriors were cute: red shingles, stucco-finished beige paint, and dark green accent lines framing windows, doors, and prominent edges. It also offered a spacious backyard - a rare feature at their price point - where they recently placed a tiny modular guest house for when family or friends visit. 

But it was affordable for a reason, because the real challenge of owning the Portola Place house was on the inside.

“ _ The couple who’s selling was in the middle of updating the property when the husband got an amazing job offer in Houston, _ ” their realtor said, trying to make the sale as she explained why the kitchen had no counters or appliances, and why the living room had one-half hardwood flooring and one-half old carpeting. “ _ But renovations on the first floor are 90% done, so that’s a plus. _ ”

Four months since purchasing it, the beige house was pretty much still a work in progress. Waterproofing and roof improvements started before they headed to Paris for Delphine’s yearly stint at Pasteur. And by the time they returned stateside, the additional works in the first floor and in the backyard were also finished. The guest house came in handy, giving them a safe space to stay until all house works conclude in about a month. They had Doug - their former Emeryville neighbor, to thank for being their de facto foreman, ensuring that the contractor followed the plan of work and specifications to the T while they were away.

With the bulk of the work now localized on the second floor – in the house’s main living space, the renovation works had been steadily becoming more stressful. Still, the creak of opened doors and the jingle-jangle of keys tossed to the key basket always made Cosima disregard the unsightly blue tarp covering the stairs to the upper floor, or the layer of wood shavings and concrete dust that seemed to have found a permanent home on the stairsteps. The whiff of paint and lacquers, while quite overpowering at times, was easy to disregard because the smell of what Delphine’s cooking in their backyard grill was more enticing and inviting. 

“I’m home,” Cosima announced, already feeling lighter and better as she wheeled in her carry-on luggage to their coat closet - their lone temporary storage space aside from the garage. She focused her gaze to the backyard, grinning from ear to ear when she saw Delphine holding barbecue thongs as she manned the grill while wearing the black apron she gave her as a gag gift. Cosima let out a laugh as her wife faced her, the garment’s graphic prominent enough for her to read as she walked towards the backyard. ‘ _ WHIP ME HARD!’  _ The apron screamed in huge white fonts while the images of whisks and bowls seemed to dance around the pun. She couldn’t get to her wife fast enough – after all, it had been close to a week since she had to leave for Minnesota.

“Are those my marching orders? Or is that a challenge?” Cosima teased, pointing to the apron’s words as she placed her shoulder bag on their temporary study desk in what would be their spacious shared home laboratory. She quickly wrapped her arms around her wife, moving a few strands of blonde hair to the side. “Either way, I’m game. Because that means you’re going to let me top for once.” Cosima could feel the giggle bubbling up in Delphine’s throat as she placed kisses on her neck and shoulders.

“You are such a brat,” Delphine teased back, still wearing her wedding ring, her watch, and her work clothes - the simple gray a-line skirt that stopped just above her knees and the sleeveless button-up white shirt went in amusing contrast with the casual flip flops she’s wearing. “And if you’ve been good," she said as she untied the apron, "I might consider it, ma chérie.” She faced Cosima so she could give her a proper kiss, “now wash up and help me set the table.”

Their current dining table was actually one of the first pieces of furniture they got. It was a gift from Felix and Sarah, who ribbed them the whole time about their house’s location.

“ _ I’ve lived in San Francisco a long while and I don’t even know what a Portola is, _ ” Felix teased, faux-complaining about developing tiny suburban stress zits on his face five minutes into arriving at their house.

“ _ Or where it is _ ,” Sarah added, laughing in between gulps of beer after carrying the heavy farmhouse table to the yard, reminding them that she’s on a rare vacation with her brother and that she’s spending her free time helping them move in. Their friends ended up staying for the night, taking the bed as she and Delphine slept on an air mattress. Her back cursed her for it, yet in the morning as she stretched and woke up to her wife's embrace, Cosima had never felt so sure that they made the right choice in buying the house. 

With one more kiss, she headed to the guest house to wash her hands before grabbing paper party plates and disposable utensils from a utility drawer. With no proper sink or dishwasher, using the fancy plates gifted by her mother would be a waste. “ _ Best to reserve it for Thanksgiving, _ ” she remembered telling Delphine, who genuinely loved Sally's gift which was more than enough to make Cosima happy. And while they usually ate out or got something delivered, today for some reason they both had a hankering for marinated chicken, sweet corn on a cob, and root beer floats – the same combination of food they ate on the last full day of their honeymoon.

As Cosima poured the root beers in easy-to-clean tumblers, she remembered the look on Delphine’s face as she showed Louise, her niece, how to make root beer floats one lazy afternoon in Bali almost a year ago. “ _ You can put as much ice cream as you want, ma bichette, _ ” her wife told the little girl with braided light brown hair. She clapped in glee as her aunt made the sweet treat, with Delphine dabbing cream off the corners of the tot’s lips as they shared a tall glass. 

She was surprised at how watching Delphine and Louise bond over sugary drinks made her heart skip a beat, both in happy anticipation and sudden wariness. Her wife didn’t need to say out loud that she’d love to have kids - her actions around her niece were more than enough indications of what she wants in the future, in  _ their _ future.

Cosima on the other hand wasn’t so sure if she’s built to be a mother – if she’s patient enough, generous enough, or if she had her shit together enough to help raise a child into becoming a good person. Even now at 37, a part of her still felt more like a child than a possible parent. She’s quite certain that she didn’t need to voice out her doubts – that Delphine could sense it somehow too. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons why she never considered the extensive house renovations as an inconvenience. After all, there would be no serious talk of having a baby until the house is completely livable. 

Maybe she’d finally feel like an adult when she’s 40.

“Cosima!?” She heard Delphine call out for her from the yard. She shook away thoughts of hypothetical children as she headed back to join her wife, who had opened the hanging lights all over the backyard. It’s easy to picture how romantic it all is, how it’s reminiscent of the yurt they stayed in at Lake Tahoe – even if the windows of what would be their master suite remained boarded up. She made sure to tell Delphine that, eliciting a shy grin from the blonde as she re-tied her hair.

“So,” Cosima said, taking a seat but not before putting food on their plates, “how was your day?”

“Good news or bad news?” Delphine asked, wiping wet hands with a kitchen towel.

“You know me,” and Cosima took a sip of her root beer float, a smile forming on her lips at the taste of an all-too familiar drink, “good news first, babe. Always…” 

\-----

Delphine’s good news

While her research and career had always been focused on medicine and immunology, Delphine liked to dip her toes in the social sciences, bookmarking interesting articles and studies for later consumption during lulls in any given day. This wasn’t always the case – back in med school, she dragged her heels to her mandatory psych classes, thinking that it’s a waste of time to learn something she’s not going to specialize in anyway. For quite some time, she didn’t care much about the metaphor between the sciences – how the terms “hard science” and “soft science” created a connotation that the social sciences were the easier, less complex and therefore less glamorous of the two. 

She was happy to only care about her scientific realm, until a cheeky American called her out on it.

_ “But science is science, Countess,” _ Cosima defended when Delphine inadvertently scoffed at her citation of a sociological theory on impression management in her master’s thesis.

“ _Yes,_ _but your study is about assisted reproductive technologies,”_ Delphine pointed out. “ _It’s just a bit out of place for me._ ”

Cosima rolled her eyes first before welcoming the invitation to debate with a grin. “ _ And patient disclosure is an important topic in the study, _ ” she confidently said as if she already won the intellectual sparring. “ _ It’s not enough that we just study the biology of it. We have to know why people act the way they do – why this person is more at ease about discussing her infertility, and why this other person sugar-coat things. If we just stick to the hard science,” _ and Delphine remembered how she watched Cosima’s hands get more animated as she explained her argument while shoving clothes in the lone backpack she’d bring all over Asia, “ _ then we’re just seeing research participants as walking, talking, sentient lab rats... That's not right. Unless that’s how you prefer it? _ ”

She picked up her first social science journal a week later, and while she hadn’t cited a social science article in any of her published works, it was easy for Delphine to realize that Cosima from years ago had always been right – science is science, and the perspectives from both natural and social science give scientists a more complete picture of the questions they want answered. 

Which was why Delphine wasn't surprised when Cosima ended up switching dissertation topics, grabbing the rare shot at being able to combine both natural and social science in search of answers. And as she watched and listened to Cosima explain the HPO and rare disease study over Skype, Delphine couldn't help but be transported back to that conversation all those years ago in the Emeryville apartment. “ _ She’s such a huge geek...And an absolute sweetheart, _ ” her mind said, repeating her inner thought all those years ago. And just like then, she didn’t know how she was able to hide the blush on her face in her admiration for Cosima’s dogged goal of gleaning knowledge from the most unexpected places. It remained to be one of the many reasons why she's in awe of her wife, why she loves her deeply.

Their little “good news-bad news” ritual over dinner was a result of Cosima's innate respect for the social sciences which sparked Delphine's relatively newfound interest in it. She read in a social psych study that most people are like her – that when given a choice, people would pick to hear the bad news first just to get it over and done with. Besides, there would be a guaranteed pick-me-upper in the offing, a piece of good news to wash away the sting of the bad news.

But the same study mentioned that the preference of which news to hear first apparently boiled down to whether the information would be used to modify behavior. People like Cosima who want to hear good news first are often more inclined to make changes for the better. And by focusing on what is wrong – i.e. by hearing bad news last - the feeling of being unsettled would become a motivation to improve behavior.

And as Delphine chewed her food, she could only hope that that psych study held water, because her good news could also spell a bit of bad news for Cosima.

“I got a call from CIRA today…” and she took a gulp of her root beer. CIRA - the Kyoto University’s Center for iPSC Research and Application, recently visited her lab at UCSF as part of their due diligence for Delphine’s funding application. “We got it, the five-year research grant – renewable depending on the results we produce.” Delphine didn’t have to wait long for Cosima’s reaction, the smaller woman immediately dropping the corn cob on her plate to stand up and sit beside her with a shiny grin.

“Oh my, this is big,” Cosima managed to eke out, pulling her plate from across the table but not before giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, really I am. Wow…They’re giving the entire thing?”

“Yes,” Delphine nodded, “more than enough to bring in Scott full-time, maybe get another researcher, and buy new equipment. All the components needed to improve stability.” One of the constraints they had to deal with was that the lab had become a revolving door for grad students, doing vital tasks like genome sequencing and learning how to use Cosima’s HPO software during their usual eight-week assignment and rotation. And while the lab had been lucky to get very talented and qualified grad students, turning over data and knowledge from one grad student to another was tedious, making the lab less efficient than it should be. “They have one request though…”

“Please don’t tell me they’re borrowing you for a year to teach in Kyoto,” Cosima said, “because as much as I love you, I don’t see myself living in Japan...”

“No, mon amour,” and all Delphine could do was bite her lip in hesitation. “They want the HPO software to be up and running with minimal bugs within a year.” Initially, CIRA wanted Cosima’s software to be completely ready for use not only in Delphine’s lab but also in CIRA’s Kyoto labs within six months. She had to put her foot down and speak on behalf of her research partner – who she knew was facing tremendous pressure to finish her diss. For months, Cosima tried to hide it, but there were nights when Delphine could hear her muttering her frustrations in the backyard as issue after issue with the HPO software cropped up.

“ _ It’s like a fucking Hydra, _ ” Cosima said as Delphine held her in her arms one night a couple of weeks ago when the muttering and mumbling snowballed into crying and sobbing. “ _ I cut a head off and two more will grow back. I fix a batch of bugs and new problems show up. _ ” Delphine wasn’t surprised when Cosima told her a few days later that she needed to fly to Minnesota– that her adviser needed her to be there so she could walk her through the problems and their possible solutions. 

\-----

Cosima’s bad news

“That’s kinda my bad news,” Cosima said, taking a napkin to wipe her hands. “I have to go back to Minnesota next month…” She could see the beginnings of a frown forming on Delphine’s face. “And if CIRA wants the software to be deployed in a year’s time, I have to go there more frequently, staying longer until I iron all the kinks out.”

The main problems of the HPO software revolved around two major issues, both fixable but time-consuming and incessantly frustrating. First, the software is slow. It’s prone to be bogged down by the packages needed to be installed to make exploratory and systematic analysis of biomedical data more reliable and more all-encompassing. It’s ironic how the software that was designed to make the complicated simple had been becoming complex to develop and maintain. 

“So at this point,” Delphine said as Cosima massaged her temples with her fingers, “it’s a case of speed versus accuracy, correct?” 

“Right,” she could only grimace as she admitted the flaw. “We can’t have that when we’re trying to analyze and compare thousands of datasets. One wrong analysis and the software is toast - along with my academic reputation, which isn’t much to begin with anyway.”

“Cosima…” Delphine sternly said, her eyes issuing a warning. She knew her wife didn’t like it, but with the pressure and problems mounting up, Cosima couldn’t help but self-flagellate - especially when the first problem gave birth to the next big problem.

“Anyway, since it’s slow,” Cosima continued, “making it available online is downright impossible at this point.” She knew that the only way for the HPO Software to be really effective was to open it for collaboration – for clinicians and scientists from all over the world to pitch in by updating datasets and packages from their own research. “And if it can’t be turned into a web application, then the software would stagnate…in a year, maybe less.”

Cosima knew she had to be in it for the long haul when she switched to doing the HPO study. And while she remained invested in her dissertation no matter how mentally and emotionally frying the road to finishing it is, there were days when the lack of sleep and progress had gotten the best of her. “ _ I actually thought I could finish this in four years?! Fuuuck... _ ” She would find herself mumbling to her laptop with an air of incredulity and sarcasm, laughing maniacally before ugly crying as she fixed bugs or wrote the accompanying software documentation on top of writing her actual diss.

But the worst episode of her dissertation burnout happened in Paris just a few months ago while on a video call with her adviser. Delphine was clocking in extra hours at the Pasteur lab, calling her at the Auteuil apartment to tell her she’d be home later than usual. As the machine took the call, she could tell from the tone of her wife’s voice that her lab was in the cusp of another cell mapping breakthrough. She smiled at the sound of Delphine’s voice and at her promise to get something yummy for dinner, before turning her attention back to Professor Ross - who not only didn’t mind the short interruption as she pored over Cosima’s recent software logs, but was also sporting an enigmatic smile of her own.

“ _ Is my documentation that bad it borders on amusing? _ ” Cosima deadpanned.

“ _ No, this is fine. It describes the software issues succinctly,”  _ Ross said. “ _ I guess I just didn’t peg you for a trailing spouse that’s all. _ ”

She knew it was a harmless joke, but jokes in general tend to be half-meant. Cosima had the good sense to let it slide, making sure to laugh at it before adopting a business-as-usual attitude as the video consultation wore on. She couldn’t help but smack her laptop shut when it was over though, itching to smoke the stash she got from one of Felix’s Parisian artist friends to tamp down whatever professional resentment she felt. 

But as the smoke from her joint filled the bathroom, she allowed herself to feel small instead. To feel inadequate compared to her wife: a doctor-slash-scientist who would get tenured in Berkeley very, very soon. Her eyes prickled with tears - first because of her perceived lack of success, then mostly out of guilt for her thoughts and emotions about Delphine’s growing reputation as a scientist and academic.

Cosima came out of the bathroom, feeling buoyant and sleepy – the jealousy still stirring deep inside her. She pulled out Delphine’s dissertation from the bookshelf where she placed it before getting cozy on the couch, picking up where she left off but not before examining the bookmark she had been using ever since she got her hands on the blonde’s work.  _ “This is as much yours as it is mine for I couldn’t have done it without you,”  _ the note Delphine wrote years ago still comforting and reassuring, remaining to be one of the many reminders of her devotion and willingness to carry her heavy load with her. 

And like before, her wife’s dissertation gave her a new perspective - that at the end of the day, jealousy would rear its ugly head every once in a while, it just can’t be avoided. But her immense pride for Delphine’s work - for what she had and will accomplish, would always be an important part of Cosima’s daily thoughts, one of the many reasons why she loves her and why she’s going to do her very best work to make her wife proud of her too. 

She got up from the couch, the planned nap forgotten, to go back to working on her diss – figuring that chipping away at it would be a good place to start being successful not only for herself but also for Delphine.

“So I gather you and Professor Ross came up with a solution?” Delphine asked, rubbing off a smidge of the marinade from Cosima’s chin. She was trying to offer her comfort by running a palm on Cosima’s thigh. “And don't forget the most important part,” Delphine said, the pad of her thumb affectionately coasting on her lower lip, “it may not be as fast as you want, but the software works - for patient and participant screening, biomedical analysis, studying potential prognostic biomarkers. We are your proof of concept, chérie.” 

“Yeah,” Cosima smiled, the simple touches and words of affirmation effective in improving her mood, in making her feel ten feet tall about her work. “The solution is simple – and it’s been staring back at me ever since the processing problems started. We have to release a leaner version of the main software. Then make the packages available online. You can install and uninstall packages depending on your needs, depending on what is being studied.”

“Which is why it’s going to take time,” Delphine deduced, “because you have to break down the software packages and datasets.”

“This is why I love being married to you,” Cosima couldn’t help but say before pulling Delphine closer. “Of course, that’s just a band-aid. We still have to find a way for the software to be able to run smoothly with all current and future add-ons installed. But that’s a problem that I could deal with when I’m doing my post-doc here in Berkeley. Honestly, I just want to get it up and running so we can hopefully get more funding for the lab. And with Hillary shattering the highest, hardest glass ceiling in a few months’ time, there could be more government grants available for scientific research - especially those helmed by women. At least that's the hope...”

\-----

Cosima’s good news

“So when exactly are you planning to go to Minnesota next month? And for how long?” Delphine asked, using a clean plastic spoon to scoop vanilla ice cream from the deep end of her tumbler. “I can go there to visit you like before.”

Cosima’s heart fluttered at that, remembering that Delphine - despite her busy and demanding schedule - always, always made time for her. That Delphine hopped on planes almost as much as she did just so they could be together more. That there was even one time early in their relationship when Cosima flew back to San Francisco as a surprise, only to get a call from Delphine asking where she was because she had been waiting for her at her Minnesota apartment for hours _. “I’m wearing that sexy, porny lingerie you want,”  _ she said, divulging a surprise of her own that she planned for weeks. Talk about a Gift of the Magi kind of situation.

“A couple of weeks around late September,” Cosima supplied and Delphine let out a sigh, knowing that there would be no wiggle room in her schedule to make a visit. “I know,” and Cosima hugged her from the side, “you’d have classes to teach by then…But I do have a proposition for you.”

“What is it?” And Cosima could see how the doe eyes that looked her way were trying to show her a supportive smile. 

“How would you like to spend the week of our wedding anniversary in Toronto?” Cosima asked. “All expenses paid – we just have to pack our bags and go.”

Delphine’s sad puppy eyes lit up with curiosity and surprise. “Toronto? To visit Sarah?”

“Well, yeah, we can do that,” Cosima said, “I just need a couple of days and then we could be all tourist-y. Now, guess why we’re going there.”

“Can you give me a hint?” Delphine easily picked up and mirrored Cosima’s playful mood.

“It has something to do with Alison,” she conceded, enjoying the sight of a confused and amused Delphine.

“Okay, ehm,” and Delphine absently played with her dreads, “Hypothesis is having a reunion episode three years after it last aired and it’s taking place in Toronto for some reason. Or...Alison is planning on murdering someone in Toronto and she's asking you to help her bury the body or make it look like an accident.”

“Close enough,” Cosima grinned, excited to share why she had to meet her agent before catching a cab to their home. “A couple of Hypothesis writers created and pitched a sci-fi show that got the green light from this major network. They needed a science consultant and they asked for me personally. I said hell yes! They shoot in Toronto so they’d like for me to visit as they write and film more episodes.”

Her eyes were bleary from parsing datasets when she got Alison’s call about the consulting gig. “ _ They want you on board, _ ” she said, aware that Cosima would get hooked on the idea when she hears what the show is about. “ _ And they want you to talk about it and be available for junkets and interviews. So are you finally going to say yes to this offer? _ ” 

Over the years, her agent would line up interviews and other paid TV jobs for her, only for her to decline - worried that even an ounce of fame would lead her back to a bottle of vodka. This time though, the idea of a possibly long-term and semi high-profile gig behind the camera appealed to Cosima. Things seem to finally fall into place and she’s finally feeling successful in all facets of her life - her diss, their lab, this paid gig, and with the fact that she’s sharing a home, a life, with the love of her life.

“Mon amour,” and Delphine gave her a kiss, “that’s interesting news. I’m so excited for you. What is the show about?” 

“It’s a clone show,” Cosima said, which immediately piqued Delphine’s interest. “But I think it's more than that. It starts off with a woman stepping out of a train. She meets herself – someone who looks exactly like her – who then jumps on the tracks, killing herself. Now the woman from the train is a grifter and badly needed money so she assumed the dead woman’s identity, conning her way so she could empty her bank account. In the process, she finds out that she, the dead woman that looks like her, and a couple of others who also look like her, are all part of a secret and illegal human cloning experiment. The catch is only one actor is going to play all the clones. It’s interesting, hella ambitious.”

“So who’s the original?” Delphine asked and Cosima smirked, loving the way her wife thinks. “If we’re talking about clones, there has to be an original. And if there are female clones, then the possibility of male clones is not that far, right?”

“That I don’t know yet,” Cosima tucked an errant curl behind Delphine’s ears. “And that’s why they’re bringing me in – to answer those questions, to keep the science storyline humming. They might even name a character after me.”

“Maybe you can use the idea of chimerism?” Delphine suggested. “A chimera would be a good candidate for an original, don’t you think? One original equals two cell lines equals two sets of possible clones.” Cosima nodded, getting her phone out as she typed what her wife said. “And if you’re using my ideas,” Delphine cooed, “maybe you can ask your writer friends to name a character after me too, non?”

“No promises there, babe,” Cosima said, shoving her phone back in her pocket. “So, are you in? We have to be there the entire last week of August.”

“Oui, I’m in,” Delphine said, already excited for the trip.

\----

Delphine’s bad news

They chatted about Cosima’s clone show some more, refilling their mugs with root beer in between conversations. Delphine found delight in watching her wife’s face as she animatedly talked about all kinds of possible science she could integrate in it. She knew that this piece of good news is a big deal for Cosima – that there’s a need for something good to happen in the midst of what she could only surmise to be a major re-working and re-wiring of the brunette’s HPO software. 

“Just one more question,” she couldn’t help but interrupt Cosima, who was already jumping the gun and talking about a genetic flaw that could add a layer of drama and science in the show. “How many clones would be there?”

“I don’t know, Countess,” and Cosima pushed up her glasses, the patio lights making her wife’s dark brown eyes shine. “That’s a very good question though. I’m guessing a hundred? Maybe more? I mean, it makes sense for whoever or whatever is behind the experiment to make more clones, right? So there’d be more sentient lab rats, so there'd be more scientific data available. It’s what reeled me to it because yeah, it’s a clone show but it goes deeper than that - it’s a study on nature versus nurture. On whether the clones make up a family just because they share the same genes…” Cosima let out an unexpected snort, “and if you date your own clone, is it technically incest? Gay? Masturbation? All of the above?” 

Amidst fits of laughter at Cosima’s last quip, Delphine’s phone rang. Fishing it out of her pocket, she was surprised to see Sally’s name on the screen, quickly showing it to Cosima before answering the call.

“Sally?” And Delphine put the call on speaker for her wife’s benefit. “Cosima is here with me. Is everything okay?”

“ _ Everything is fine, dear, _ ” Sally said. “ _ How are you, Cosima? _ ”

“I’m fine, Mom,” her wife answered with a curt smile as she stood to start cleaning up. “And you? Where are you exactly?”

“ _ I’m in Alaska for a short research trip. Do you mind if I talk to Delphine in private? _ ” Sally said.

“Yeah, go for it,” Cosima shrugged, before carrying a half-filled trash bag and leaving Delphine in the backyard.

“ _ Are we alone? _ ” Was the first thing Sally asked when she got her off speaker mode.

“You’re starting to worry me,” Delphine couldn’t help but utter. “Is there something wrong?”

“ _ I’m not sure, which is why I called you, _ ” and while she couldn’t see her mother-in-law, she could sense her frayed nerves just by the tone of her voice. “ _ I sent you something over email that I need you to look at very, very carefully. It’s from Cosima’s rare disease network…” _

While Cosima’s HPO software grappled with its share of issues since its soft release almost a year ago, the rare disease network that Cosima launched with the backing of the University of Minnesota had been thriving with nary a hitch. Naturally, the first data Cosima encoded in the social network was Gene and his disease, listing Sally as the main contact for his case. And with Professor Ross and UMN’s involvement, several clinical trials and medical researchers have been using the network which has steadily been achieving its goal of connecting people - including their respective support systems, with the same rare diseases.

“Okay,” and Delphine quickly went inside the guest house to sit in front of her laptop, pressing on a random key to bring it to life. “Can you tell me the broad strokes at least?”

But as Sally began to talk, Delphine realized the reason for the sudden phone call. She read the first of the two attached files, a medical abstract for Charlotte Bowles, a 12-year-old girl who was taken to the ER for a severe asthma attack three weeks ago. She zoomed in on the child’s chest CT and saw it - the similarity of her scans to that of Gene’s.

“Given how difficult it is to diagnose, we can’t know for sure if this is DIPNECH based only on the images,” Delphine said as she went over the rest of the diagnostic scans. “I suggest getting actual lung tissue for biopsy to see under the microscope if there’s an overgrowth of pulmonary neuroendocrine cells. But if this is DIPNECH,” and she clicked on the other attachment, “she’s definitely the youngest to ever have this disease so far. Which means like Gene, this child is an anomaly. We know from the research that it usually affects women in their late 40s to 60s, mostly non-smokers.” 

There was an uneasy silence on the other end of the line as she explained, a silence that Delphine finally understood when she opened the second attachment. 

“Merde...” 

Because right before her eyes could be the answer to one of her biggest, most nagging questions about Gene’s disease – Is this disease genetic? Is it inheritable?

“ _ That’s what I’m worried about, _ ” Sally expressed, “ _ that’s why I called you, _ ” figuring that she’d seen the contents of the second file. “ _ Charlotte’s grandmother was diagnosed with DIPNECH 10 years ago. Eight years ago, she died of metastatic lung cancer that had spread to her adrenal gland. Her daughter - Charlotte’s mother - just learned of the rare disease network from her mother’s doctor who she contacted after bringing her daughter to the ER. Delphine… _ ” And the sound of her name snapped her out of a trance caused by reading the first real piece of evidence that DIPNECH may be hereditary, “ _ can I count on you to examine this? _ ”

“Leave it with me,” the clarity and calm in Delphine’s voice went in contrast to the almost overwhelming feeling of dread and uncertainty. “I’ll look into this first thing tomorrow.”

“ _ Promise me you’ll let me know…I can’t go through this again. Cosima…I just can’t imagine...” _ Sally didn’t need to finish her sentence. “ _ Just - just keep me informed. _ ”

“Oui,” she said. “If it helps...Cosima’s latest lung scans from six months ago came back normal. As did the scans of the other DIPNECH offsprings who are part of our study...” 

Most of the lab’s funding had been devoted to disease modeling studies, specifically at building a viable DIPNECH tumor cell line through iPSCs using neuroendocrine tumor tissues donated by diagnosed patients. This could lead to a better molecular understanding of the disease which would improve diagnosis and testing, and hopefully spark drug development and drug testing. A portion of the remaining funds had been bankrolling a side project - a hereditary risk factors study with the patients’ adult children as participants. As the lead scientist, Delphine was not keen on involving young children in the study - not that there were many given the usual age group afflicted by the disease. 

“ _ It does help, _ ” Sally said, though Delphine’s unconvinced that it did. The phone call ended with Sally promising to immediately connect her with Charlotte’s mother, Marion, and with the child’s primary care physician in Boston.

“What was that about?” Delphine heard Cosima’s voice first before she felt hands rubbing at her suddenly-tensed shoulders. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pointing to the laptop to let her wife read Sally’s unsettling discovery.

\-----

Sally’s phone call easily trampled Delphine’s original bad news about the additional retrofitting works for the house’s custom-made skylights. Cosima wanted those roof windows in their bedroom badly, not only for aesthetic purposes but for far less wholesome reasons.

“ _ I have this fantasy of you riding me…One of my hands on your breast, the other rubbing your clit in slow circles that you love, that make you make that sound - a moan crossed with a whimper, a gasp, and a laugh. All that with the sky in the background. _ ”

“ _ So you’ll see stars while I ride you like a cowgirl? _ ” Delphine replied, finding the design idea appealing and the dirty talk arousing.

“ _ I see stars every time you come for me, Countess,”  _ Cosima said, “ _ it doesn’t matter if it’s night or day. _ ”

Half of that fantasy was being played out long after dinner. They both initially expected to have sex tonight, not surprising given how much they missed each other and how they both crave the release that only the other could give. But all thoughts of sex went out the window for Delphine as she watched Cosima go through the files Sally sent. She gave her a thoughtful kiss on the top of her head before getting ready for bed. Teeth brushed and face washed, she was already tucked in and reading through the medical abstract again when her wife emerged from the small bathroom – wearing nothing but a harness and their go-to dildo.

“ _ I really need this, _ ” Cosima said, stroking her cock wet with lube as she walked towards her. Delphine couldn’t get out of her clothes fast enough, intending to give the weary brunette what she cheekily insinuated before they sat down for dinner. And for the most part, she kept her promise - letting Cosima top, hovering above her and drawing out the delicious love-making until her arms gave way. Close to her sweet release, she gave her wife’s shaking arms a break which led to the position they’re in now - Delphine riding Cosima to climax, her moans of pleasure mixing with words in French that always turned the brunette on.

Only when Delphine opened her eyes after the orgasm that made her see stars, the look on her wife's face was not that of someone ready to get as good as she gave. It was as if the arousal had mixed with hints of doubt and all of it was written on Cosima’s face. It swirled in her worried eyes, evident in her narrowed lips and slightly furrowed brows. She was still inside her as Delphine pressed her body flushed against her wife, burying her face in her neck.

“I know what you said,” Cosima finally broke the silence as she carefully slipped out of her, taking off the harness and unceremoniously pushing it off the bed. “Je veux un bébé,” she repeated the words Delphine didn’t even know she uttered seconds before coming. “I looked it up ages ago, around the third or fourth time you said it in bed.”

Delphine chastised herself internally for the words she let slip out. This was not the time to bring that up...Which didn’t stop her from wondering, as Cosima wrapped her arms around her, if there would ever be a good time to discuss the prospect of having a child with the implications of Sally’s email pervading their thoughts. 

Instead of voicing any of that out though, she opted to coast gentle kisses on Cosima’s neck and shoulder - hoping that would spark enough comfort and distraction. She had said enough and silence was her safest bet. 

“I’m not so sure if I can give you that, Countess.” She could feel Cosima’s embrace getting tighter, as if afraid that she’d run away from her at the mention of the string of words she knew her wife had in her even before Sally’s email. “I don’t even know if I want it. I...just know I shouldn’t want it.” 

She allowed herself to be held, convincing herself that having a child doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. That it may be too late for them anyway. She was willing the tears from her eyes to not fall when she heard soft sobs in between heavy breaths. All Delphine could do was clutch on to her wife tighter, kissing away Cosima’s tears while disregarding the niggles of guilt and sadness beginning to find a home in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the 2016 chapter - the first chapter for 2021. Thank you very much for reading and please let me know what you thought of it, be it good or bad :). 
> 
> A bit of housekeeping: that line about dating your own clone is from this funny Team Coco video that you can watch here - https://youtu.be/Is9RUlRSlOc
> 
> Big thanks to Corsan, Lana_Maundrell (dude, are you pulling an all-nighter?), durianmush (there are no zombie puppies in 2016 unfortunately), and Shadow_fax (Happy birthday!) for the conversations along the way. 
> 
> See you in 2017 :) and take care!


	14. August 6, 2017

“Babe,” Cosima said as she scooted closer to Delphine, “we should really give Jean our decorator’s number.” Her wife let out a snicker before playfully swatting her arm. “I’m serious,” and she pointed to an acrylic painting that looked like a psychedelic vulva in outer space flanked by wood-carved barrel men in several sizes.

“Do you remember how surprised you were the first time you lifted their barrels?” Delphine asked her, making Cosima remember their earlier sessions with their therapist. “What was it that you said…?”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen a penis up close since college,” Cosima supplied, pinching Delphine on the side before giving her bare shoulder a kiss. 

In her defense, their therapist’s office could really use a décor update – it’s a thought Cosima had for months now. The painting and the phallic figurines on a display table by a window were about the only interesting things in the all-white space. Jean’s desk, a run-of-the mill study that shared the same color as the walls, always looked pristine with only a box of tissues on it - something that they thankfully hadn’t used in their sessions. The blue accent chairs on the corners of the couch, an attempt to add a shock of color in the antiseptic space, looked boring and didn’t seem to be the most comfortable things to sit on.

The couch though was thankfully cozy, with just the right balance of firmness and softness. Cosima would tell Jean to keep it, along with the woody barrel men and the framed galactic vulva.

“Cosima, Delphine,” Jean said as she entered her office, “how are we today?” And she took her seat behind the desk.

“Pretty good,” Delphine answered with a smile on her beautiful face.

“It’s the kick-ass caffeine talking,” Cosima added, earning a lighthearted shove from her wife. “We had brunch at that place across the street,” she pushed her glasses up before taking Delphine’s hand in hers. “Sort of like a small celebration…”

“Well, today is worth celebrating,” their therapist affirmed. “It is your second to the last weekly session. You have one more Sunday to go before coming here becomes optional. My hope is that, at the very least, I was a good referee for you two these past months.”

They both snorted at that comment - Cosima more than Delphine, given how the ‘referee’ quip was something she said when answering one of the earliest questions Jean asked them in couples therapy last May during their first session: “ _ Why do you think you’re here? _ ”

_ “Honestly? We need an impartial referee,” Cosima quipped. “Long story short, she wants a child and I…I have my reservations -” _

_ “More like doubts…” Delphine added underneath her breath. _

_ “Uh, is there a difference?” Cosima was unable to hide her irritated tone - not that she wanted to mask it. _

_ “There is - and it’s a huge difference.” Delphine looked at Cosima and at Jean, biting her lip before giving an explanation. “A reservation is something that’s holding you back - and when we smooth that something out, you’d give it a try. Doubts are different, more serious. They are uncertainties…Disbeliefs. You’d still be unsure even if there are possible solutions.” _

_ “Semantics,” Cosima dismissively scoffed. _

_ “Then admit it,” Delphine said. “Admit that you’re not having reservations - you’re having doubts.” _

_ “Why are you asking me to do that?” Cosima asked. “You of all people know what my reservations are…” _

_ “I know,” and Delphine ran her hand through her hair. “You’re afraid that now that we know that Gene’s disease could be hereditary, you can pass it on. But I could carry. Or we could adopt. So that reservation has several concrete solutions, ma chérie…” _

_ “Oh do not ma chérie me,” Cosima said - her temper and fears suddenly flaring. “You know it’s bigger than that. What happens when you finally discover the affected gene? What if you find out that I have that defect too? How would you like raising a child with a wife that could grow lung tumors like she’s going for a world record? Is it your lifelong dream to simultaneously take care of a baby spewing apple sauce and a sick wife coughing up blood?” _

_ “Pinpointing if it’s doubt or reservation doesn’t matter for now,” Jean calmly intervened amidst the raised voices. “Whatever it is, it’s causing a glaring difference in outlook - in what you want your shared future to look like. Figuring out together why that is would be important going forward.” _

“You’re a good referee,” Cosima said to Jean now. “I think we know that we made the right choice to seek your help.”

Delphine nodded. “You were always impartial. And honestly, since Cosima and I have known each other for so long, we always thought we already know how to communicate with each other. You steered us to talk more sensibly. To listen better…”

“To live without the zingers and the wisecracks,” Cosima whispered, the hand holding onto hers gripping tighter as she spoke. “And a therapist available on Sundays when people actually have the time to fix their lives is surprisingly rare, so thank you for your unusual hours.”

“Okay,” Jean was smiling amidst eyeing them carefully. She put down her pen and took a deep breath. “Let’s see if that’s more than just lip service. Can you tell me again what brought this up – what was the incident that urged you to consider and seek therapy?”

_ “You mentioned that there was something that happened,” Jean continued - rewearing her reading glasses as she jotted down notes, “that pushed you to finally call my office and book an appointment. Can you tell me what that is?” _

_ Cosima took a passing, annoyed glance at Delphine who was massaging her nape. “Do you want me to do the honors or…” _

_ “I cried after sex,” Delphine said, her patience becoming wafer thin judging by the sound of her voice and the narrowing of her eyes. “It happened one time, a week ago. Happy?” She looked at Cosima with unmistakable condescension. _

_ “It wasn’t just after,” Cosima snapped back. “You were already tearing up even before I started going down on you. It was the saddest ‘I want you’ I’ve ever gotten in my entire life. And it came from my wife no less. How do you think that made me feel?” _

_ “Honestly, you expected me to react differently when you’re essentially censoring me from saying things in our own bed? And I let you take me. I came twice! I don’t know what you’re complaining about.” _

_ “Okay, slow down,” hands raised, Jean finally got a word in. “Censoring?” Her gaze and question directed at Cosima. _

_ “I may have asked her not to talk while…” Cosima answered and gestured before staring at the floor to avoid looking at their therapist. “Because she always tells me that she wants us to have a baby, a child, right before an orgasm – when she knows I’ll let it pass. When she knows I can’t deny her. It’s unfair.” _

_ “We never talk about it any other time, anywhere,” Delphine said, “because you don’t ever want to talk about it.” _

_ “Oh, okay,” Cosima chose to be obnoxious. “Then why don’t we talk about it now?” _

Delphine looked at Cosima with a reassuring smile, interested to know her take on their therapist’s question. “I don’t think us being here could be attributed to just one incident,” and Cosima returned her wife’s smile with a hopeful grin of her own. “It was a series of incidents - small things that we didn’t notice that just piled up.”

“Oui,” Delphine added, backing up Cosima’s thoughts. “I think it really started sometime last year – with what we found out about Gene’s illness. With the house finally completed, when I turned 37, when Cosima perfected her HPO software. As if we ask ourselves ‘what’s next?’ and we latched on to this topic of having a child…I was more fixated with it compared to Cosima obviously…That’s not fair to either of us - this idea that there’s something missing in our lives and that a child would somehow fill it. That motherhood is the next logical step. I can blame social biases and expectations for that, but in the end, that was on me.”

“I latched onto it too,” Cosima said, her thumb grazing Delphine’s knuckles. “Just because I had doubts doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it. On the contrary, I think about it a lot – even before we started therapy, probably as soon as I understood what you were saying to me in bed.”

Jean looked at them with a curt smile and a thrifty nod, not wanting to give away that she liked everything she heard so far. “So how do you approach thinking about the future - of your future together - now?”

_ “So now all of a sudden,” Delphine said - the humor from watching Cosima unravel their therapist’s wooden barrel men now completely replaced by frustration, “you want to talk about the future, about kids.” _

_ “This is why we’re here, right?” Cosima said with a petulant shrug. “We’re here to decide if we’re going to have a child or not. Because fertility clinics recommend same-sex parents to undergo some sort of counseling before having a child… Some even strictly require it. So fine...You want to know why I don’t like talking about the future? About kids? Because it scares the shit out of me, makes me tremble in fear. You think I’d want to leave you and our hypothetical child behind? I was the child left behind, just in case you’re forgetting. And let me tell you, it ain’t easy. It hurt. It still hurts sometimes.” _

_ “Let me just stop you right there,” Jean said, her voice taking on a more authoritative tone. “If either of you think that you’re here only to answer that question – Are we going to have a child or not? – I’m going to burst your bubble right now and save you time and money. You’re not just here to find a definitive answer to that question.” _

_ “Then what the fuck are we here for?” Cosima said without thinking, even if she knew that the therapist had a point. _

_ “This is your first session so I don’t know yet,” Jean answered succinctly, her honesty taking her and Delphine by surprise. “What I know for certain is that couples therapy isn’t the fix. That the real work of fixing things needs to happen outside this office. So while I do not know why you’re really here yet, the hope is for you two to get the tools you’ll need that would enable you to talk and listen better to each other at home.” _

“If I’m being really honest,” Cosima answered, “that question - ‘what’s next for us?’ has always been there ever since we got together.” From her periphery, she could see Delphine nod. “That in itself is the dream - that I get to ask that question and that the ‘us’ is me and Delphine.”

“The best part of that dream for me is that it doesn’t stop with us getting to ask that question,” Delphine said. “Because we actually get to form various hypotheses together, and we could test them out…or not. But whatever happens, we decide together. So when we talk about the future now, we don’t just focus on the specifics. On what we want, what we envision in it. We relish the process more, I guess. We find pleasure in testing our theories.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Dr. Cormier,” Cosima couldn’t help but say, her heart fluttering at the sound of her wife’s laughter, who playfully stuck her tongue out at her. She wanted nothing more but to kiss the smirk off her face, but Jean asked them a question as Cosima was about to lean in.

“Tell me, what communication tools did you two use the most these past couple of months?” She asked. “This is your 13 th session, lucky number 13, and you two seemed to have achieved the best case scenario for any couple who chooses to go into therapy and counseling. So I want you to tell me what kind of work you two continue to do to get to where you are – a couple who communicates empathically, from who and how you were when you first sat on that couch.”

_ “I’ve known Cosima for 12 years, Dr. Mackey,” Delphine snidely remarked, “I don’t think I need any more tips on how to talk to her.” _

_ “Di-fucking-tto,” Cosima said, subtly glancing at the clock hanging on the wall, willing the hands of time to tick faster. _

_ “I beg to disagree,” Jean said, putting down her pen and closing her notebook. _

_ “I’m sorry,” and Cosima couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic sneer, “but you’ve known us for what – 45 minutes, give or take? I don’t think you’re in any position to disagree or even have an opinion about us.” _

_ “Fair enough,” Jean stood up from her chair to walk towards one of the blue chairs. “But if I may,” she said as she took the seat nearer to the couch, “let me tell you my outsider’s perspective about you two as a couple in the 50 minutes that you’ve been here. After all, isn’t that why you’re here – to have an impartial referee at the very least?” _

_ “Well, we’re already here,” Delphine said, “and we only have 10 minutes left.” The scowl on Cosima’s face went against the smile she’s hiding on the inside - finding comfort in still being able to tell what Delphine was thinking with just one look even if they’re at odds against each other. _

_ “Thank you, Delphine.” Jean said. “Is it okay if I say what I think, Cosima?” And Cosima shrugged. There’s no harm in hearing what the therapist had to say – especially if they’re not coming back after just one session. _

_ “For the better part of your hour with me,” Jean started, “I witnessed two people who – for a lack of a better term - perfectly fit.” Cosima tried to hold on to the irritation instead of blushing at that comment. “My hand couldn’t keep up with writing notes during the first 30 minutes of your session - when you talked about how you met, your friendship, how you got together. All while you gushed about each other and your separate but related scientific endeavors.” _

_ Cosima could see a ghost of a smile form on her wife’s lips. It was all she needed to see to reach out and take the blonde’s hand in hers, letting out a sigh of relief when the touch was not rejected.  _

_ “So I was sitting by my desk, trying to catalog as much of your joint stories as I can, all the while I was thinking: ‘this couple – Delphine Cormier and Cosima Niehaus – has absolutely no business being on my couch.’ That this is the easiest session I’ve been in for a long time. And then the last 20 minutes happened,” Jean pushed her glasses up on the top of her head. “You disagree about this one, very important issue and the claws are out.” _

_ “I get it - under the surface, we’re difficult and we have serious issues,” Cosima snarked, “and you can help because you’re a miracle worker. Am I right?” _

_ “Quite the opposite,” Jean casually said. “From where I’m sitting your main issue – the one thing you don’t see eye-to-eye on - can be summarized in just eight simple words.”  _

_ The therapist turned to look at Delphine, “I want a child,” lightly raising her right hand as she counted the words in that sentence.  _

_ “I’m not so sure,” she looked at Cosima with four fingers raised in her left hand.  _

_ “So, we’re going to do an experiment. I want both of you to try replacing your four words with a different set of four words. Whenever you two want to say your 4-word triggers, replace it with a different 4-word sentence.” _

_ “You want us to not talk about the very issue that brought us here?” Delphine asked, dubious about the experiment.  _

_ “Like a ‘don’t-ask-don’t-tell’ kind of exercise?” Cosima concluded. _

_ “You can say that, yes,” Jean said. “Until such a time when you two can sit down and decide how you want to talk about your future together. Keep note of the sentences you like, write them down. Don’t tell each other your 4-word substitutes if you can.” _

“We’ve been using most of the exercises you told us,” Cosima leaned back on the couch, “but we’ve been using the first communication tool you asked us to do a lot. The 4-word experiment…”

“We know it’s not the healthiest option,” and Delphine moved closer to Cosima, eliminating what little space there was between them, “but we decided after our first session that we’re going to do that indefinitely.”

“Well,” and Jean walked to sit on one of the uncomfortable blue chairs, “as long as you guys decided together. And if it’s helping eliminate your joint triggers, it can’t be all that bad. So let’s hear them – tell me your favorite 4-word substitutes that you’ve said to each other in these past three months.”

\-----

“ **Lie back and enjoy.** ”

_ Delphine checked herself once, twice, thrice before stepping out of the bathroom, fidgeting a little while walking towards Cosima as she stood by their living room window.  _

“ _ You’ve been awfully quiet, chérie, _ ” s _ he whispered in her ear, tentatively wrapping her arms around Cosima’s waist from behind. _

_ “I’m just thinking about some of the stuff Jean said earlier,” and Cosima leaned in to her touch. “I’m not sure if I want to give it another shot,” she babbled as she slowly pressed closer. “I mean, she said so herself – we’re not that fucked up as a couple. Maybe we don’t need it, and I’m not really that comfortable with -” _

_ Cosima stopped rambling, abruptly turning to face her as one previously gesticulating hand slid down the blonde’s body. “Oh my god,” she said as her palm settled on Delphine’s crotch, grasping at what’s hidden behind tailored slacks, “are you packing?” _

_ “I’ve been thinking about the things that we said too…” Delphine proceeded to undress her wife, coasting hurried kisses in every patch of skin she exposed. “And I just want to show you,” Cosima unbuckled Delphine’s belt and unbuttoned her slacks in response, “how much I want you.” _

_ “God, yes,” the sound of a zipper being pulled down was muted by the thump of their bodies as they hit the couch cushions. _

_“I want you,” Delphine said - her tone toying between a growl and a moan - as she watched Cosima’s eye widen in both surprise and arousal at the sight of the boy-cut underwear where the toy was threaded._ _“Dieu, I want you, Cosima,” and Delphine settled between her wife’s legs, her eyes focusing on Cosima’s face as she breathed in the scent of her arousal. “I want you so bad.”_

_ She spent the better part of the night showing Cosima just how much. _

“I think one of my favorites,” Delphine answered their therapist with a faint hint of a blush, “was something I said that night after our first time here. It’s, uhm,” and she couldn’t help but bite her lip, suddenly feeling bashful, “lie back and enjoy.”

“Why am I not surprised?” And Cosima’s eyes and lips crinkled in both amusement and mischief. The sound of her laughter reverberated in Jean’s office and filled Delphine’s heart to the brim. “Just so you know, I think I can be a power bottom any time I want.” 

“Talk me through that night after your first session,” Jean said, “how were things at home after?”

“Well to be blunt we had tons of sex,” Cosima supplied, transforming Delphine’s mild blush into a deep shade of red. “What?” Her wife turned to face her when she noticed the redness on her cheeks. “It’s true – and we have to be as honest as we possibly can while we’re here.”

“And Delphine, based on your 4-word substitute and on Cosima’s take on things, you took more initiative that night?”

“I did, yes,” Delphine quickly replied, keeping the titillating details to herself.

“She’s asking if you’re top, babe,” Cosima joked, the cheeky sidesmile that came with the comment making Delphine snort, “so maybe not just that night?”

“It was the first time we had sex after that time when I cried and…I think the things she said during our first session made me more eager to make it up to her,” Delphine said before lightly poking Cosima on her waist, meaning to tickle and play before remembering where they were.

“And make it up to me she did,” Cosima said, her cheeks mirroring the blush on Delphine’s face, "over, and over, and over, and over again."

\-----

**“Come back to bed.”**

“You know it’s funny you mentioned that particular night,” Cosima was still grinning, absently playing with the rings around her fingers. “Because I said one of my favorite 4-word substitutes because of it...”

“Oh?” Delphine’s shy but playful grin now went in tandem with slightly furrowed brows.

“Yeah, I did. The next day…” Cosima watched Delphine search her memory, trying to remember what she could have said. “You don’t remember? I mean, the night was one of the most mind-blowing nights of my life. But the day that followed…It was kinda sweet. They’re equally memorable for different reasons.” 

“Well,” Jean said after taking a sip of her water, “why don’t you let us in on that day, Cosima?”

_ It was the soft ringing of her 6:15 a.m. alarm that made Cosima stir in bed. She quickly turned it off, the feel of snuggling against Delphine a million times more enticing than the Monday lurking around the corner. Besides, the first alarm of the work week was not meant to rouse her from bed - that’s what the louder, more obnoxious 7 a.m, 7:30 a.m., and 7:45 a.m. alarms are for anyway. And with how last night played out, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d sleep through all of them. She went back to sleep, still feeling tired but very satisfied from their exertions. _

_ Cosima could choose to start her day near noon and that would be fine. After all, everything that she needed to do today she could do at home: continue writing her diss, checking the HPO software for bugs, going over storyboard ideas for the TV show. But the 7:45 a.m. alarm, a blaring foghorn and the loudest of the bunch, woke her up as intended. She opened her eyes, gave it a few quick rubs, and wore her glasses. Getting a few more hours of sleep would be nice, but she wouldn’t want to miss the best way to start her day – a quiet cup of tea while sitting across Delphine who’s on her second cup of coffee. _

_ She was surprised to see her wife sitting by the vanity, already showered with only a towel wrapped around her body. Cosima watched her remove the excess moisture in her hair, could see the marks she made from last night on her long, creamy neck. She wrapped her hair in another towel, dabbing on moisturizer before putting on perfume behind her ears and her neck. _

_ “I love you more,” she heard Delphine say to the mirror, which confused Cosima. “Have a good day today,” Delphine spoke again, shaking her head before saying “Have a good day” as she counted the number of words in the sentence with her fingers. It was only then when Cosima realized what her wife was doing, how she’s probably thinking of more 4-word sentences to mask what she really wanted to say. _

_ “Babe,” and Delphine quickly turned to face her, eyes slightly alarmed at the thought that she was caught. “Are you busy today?” _

_ “Euh, yes and no,” and Delphine turned on the hair straightener as she removed the towel from her hair. “We’re getting new grad students in the lab today. Scott and I are there to give them an orientation. I’d probably spend the rest of the day grading final exams in the lab.” _

_ Cosima couldn’t explain how watching Delphine get ready for work while faintly hearing her rehearse words that she hoped wouldn’t hurt her made her clingier than usual. “Babe?” _

_ “Yes, mon amour?” And Delphine turned off the hair straightener. _

_ “Can you play hookie today? Like, just hole up with me instead?” Cosima asked, wrapping a blanket around her body. “Scott can manage without you. And you can grade exams here.” _

_ “Cosima…” Delphine said with a shake of her head, “it’s Monday. I don’t think I can even if I want to.” _

_ “Just…” and mind whirring, Cosima quickly strung together four words in a sentence. “Come back to bed.” _

__

“We stayed in bed almost the entire day,” Delphine added, suddenly remembering the details of that day. “I graded papers, had coffee…”

“Had brunch in bed, watched bad daytime TV, slept in…It was an awesome day,” Cosima said to Jean.

“It really was,” Delphine said. 

“Months later I still don’t know what it was with those words that convinced her to ditch work,” Cosima shared, remembering how happy she was when Delphine stood up from the vanity, climbing back to bed after removing the towel draped around her.

“Ma chérie,” and Delphine looked at her as if the answer to her question was obvious, “after all this time, you still don’t know how much hold you have on me?”

\-----

**“You are so cute.”**

“Cosima said the first time you were here that you usually bring up the topic of kids while you’re being intimate,” Jean said. “Why do you think that is?”

“I think it’s just me getting carried away,” Delphine opted for honesty. “It’s hard to filter my thoughts, my feelings when we’re making love. If I really look at it…I think it has something to do with how Cosima and I started.” She might as well say the rest of what’s on her mind. “I was in love with her for the longest time…Even when we were just friends…And I had to bite my tongue, keep things platonic, for a lot of reasons.”

“You know the feeling’s mutual, right?” Cosima was looking at her so gently, so softly. “I’ve been in love with you for the better part of my adult life. It just took me a while to wise up and pursue you.”

“Is that still the case now?” Jean asked. “You only think of having kids when you’re having sex?”

Delphine looked at Cosima waringly, unsure if what she would say would be met with a scowl or feigned nonchalance. “Non…I don’t think that has ever been the case.”

_ Delphine never needed an alarm clock to wake up in the morning. Maybe the years of med school were to blame. Or her incessant need to be always on time. Or her addiction to caffeine - the need to have time in the morning for at least two cups of coffee so she could become a functional human being again. Whatever the reason is, she could count on her body clock to wake her up at 6:30 in the morning – great for work days but not so much on weekends knowing how much Cosima loved to sleep in. _

_ Still, being up early on a lazy weekend has its perks. Delphine carefully turned to face her wife, finding herself getting lost in taking her in. Cosima snored a bit loudly and drooled on their sheets, but even that made her smile. She had her elbow on one of their pillows, propping up the side of her face as she continued to watch her wife take deep, even breaths. Delphine wondered if it would always be the case, could only hope that it would always be the case, but she knew that potential illnesses wouldn’t diminish the love she has for Cosima. _

_ What she knew for certain in the privacy of their bedroom was that it’s a gift to see Cosima so bare – no glasses, no makeup, no winged eyeliner. She wanted to trace the outlines of her face, run a finger over perfect eyebrows, kiss the tip of her nose, hold her in her arms. But she chose to let Cosima have her sleep, letting her thoughts keep her company until her wife wakes up. _

_ So close to Cosima and alone with her musings and feelings in the morning, Delphine could not help but picture a child that has Cosima’s lips, her eyebrows, her nose, her hair, her eyes. They could work with the fertility clinic of their choice that could help them identify a sperm donor that shares similar features with her mon amour. She could imagine a cheeky three-year-old tot that is a mix of her and Cosima in the middle of the bed clutching on to her mom or her maman. _

_ “Countess,” Cosima murmured, slightly opening her eyes, “what time is it?” _

_ “Still early,” Delphine said, her hand coasting on Cosima’s waist, gently tapping it to lull her back to sleep. _

_ “What’s on your mind?” And Cosima turned to face her. _

_ “Nothing, ma petite chérie,” Delphine tucked locks of Cosima’s hair behind her ear. _

_ “I think you’re lying,” Cosima said, a sleepy sidesmile forming on her lips. _

_ She was, Delphine thought, but they’re not ready for her morning thoughts. “You are so cute,” she said instead before giving her a kiss on the lips and on the forehead. It's a form of truth that had minimal to no consequences. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” _

__

\-----

**“Can I hug you?”**

“How did that make you feel, Cosima?” Jean asked.

Cosima shrugged her slight unease but didn’t let go of Delphine’s hand. “It’s not news to me,” she said. “The thing about being married to someone you know so well is that you know what they’re thinking, how they’re feeling about 80% of the time. I knew Delphine thought about it a lot of times, not just when we’re having sex.”

“Knowing what the other is thinking or feeling,” Delphine said, “is a boon and a bane. But whatever it is, it’s mostly comforting.”

“I’d actually be more surprised if she said she only thought about it when we’re making love. Although,” and Cosima decided out of the blue to crack a joke, “we have a lot of sex so if she’s only thinking about it during sex, she’s still technically thinking about it a lot.”

“Stop it, mon amour,” and Delphine smiled before capturing her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Do you think you can tell when she’s thinking about it?” Jean followed-up with another question.

“I could guess when she’s thinking about it…when she wants to bring it up,” Cosima explained. “Though I’m guessing there are only a handful of times that I know I guessed right.”

_ They don’t have guests often, so when they do they go all out. Felix, now based in Toronto, was their first full-blown guest in the tiny house in the backyard when he taught a short course in the Academy of Art University shortly after New Year. Sarah stayed a weekend when Cal had a few meetings with possible business partners in the area. And while they enjoyed having them over, Cosima knew that Delphine was most excited to play host to Jérémie and his family when her brother got invited to a nonprofit fundraising and technology conference in San Francisco. “They’re staying for a week to see the sights.” She made sure to block off a week so she could come with Delphine in touring her brother and his family in and out of the Bay Area. _

_ It was even her idea for Jérémie and Carine to have a romantic dinner on their last full night in San Francisco. Delphine - and by extension, Cosima - volunteered to babysit Louise. “She’s in her Lego phase,” Jérémie mentioned over Skype a day before they flew into San Fran. And judging by the many Lego sets Delphine purchased before her niece arrived, they wouldn’t have to worry about running out of things to amuse her. _

_ Louise fell asleep on the couch a few hours after an early dinner, the Lego set she chose to build tonight – a pen case in the shape of a cottage – left unfinished. Cosima was putting the remaining pieces and blocks in its plastic wrapping to return them in the box when she heard it. _

_ “Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot Prête-moi ta plume, pour écrire un mot.” _

_ She had heard her wife sing countless times before – from belting out drunk karaoke when they were younger to absently singing a French pop-rap song while chopping vegetables for dinner. Her singing voice, breathy and angelic at whatever decibel, always made her heart leap. This time though - as her niece rested her head on Delphine’s thigh - not only did Cosima’s heart leapt, it also skipped a beat. _

_ “I love you,” she couldn’t help but say as she stowed the last of Louise’s bricks. _

_ Delphine stopped singing as she looked at her while running her hand through the child’s light brown hair. “I love you more,” she replied, needing a full minute to form the words – transporting Cosima to a memory of an early morning when she heard Delphine say those same words in front of a mirror, an acceptable four-word substitute for what she wanted but wouldn’t say, couldn’t say. _

_ Cosima draped the nearby throw on the sleeping child before carefully walking towards Delphine. “Can I hug you?” She kneeled in front of her, slotting herself between her wife’s legs as she wrapped her arms around her. She could feel Delphine’s heart beating as she held her tighter.  _

\-----

**“Gene would be proud.”**

“Was she right?” Jean asked Delphine when Cosima finished telling the story about babysitting Louise. “Were you thinking about it then?”

“Yes,” and Delphine tightened her hold on Cosima’s hand. “I think that one was a given. It was obvious.”

Jean turned her attention to Cosima. “What was running through your mind when that happened?” Delphine dreaded the answer that their therapist’s question would yield, but at the same time she wanted to know what Cosima was thinking and feeling besides being doubtful and scared.

Cosima let out a breath, and judging from the look on her face, Delphine knew that she was clearly choosing the best words that would convey what she felt, hoping that those truthful words wouldn’t hurt her. “Honestly,” and Cosima looked at her, “I thought about my dad. I thought about how he missed this.”

“This?” Jean looked confused.

“This,” and Delphine watched as Cosima tried to fight her emotions. “You know, there was a time when my father was really sick when he told me I wasn’t a very nice person anymore.” This was news to Delphine. “He was right - even then I knew he was right. But he did say that I was gonna go places. That I was going to be decent, accomplished, loving. I think he was hoping that I’d be...And to my surprise, he was right about that too. Because with Delphine, I am all that – decent, loving, accomplished – everything my father wanted me to be…Everything I want to be. He died before he could see it. He missed it.”

“I think he hoped and knew that you would be all that,” Delphine brought the hand she was holding and placed a lingering kiss on the top of Cosima’s palms, hoping to give comfort. “Gene would be proud,” she whispered. “I think he always was, to be honest.”

“Gene would be proud,” Jean counted off the words in her hand. “Was that ever a 4-word substitute?”

Delphine made sure that Cosima was okay first before answering the question. “Yes,” she said when Cosima gave her a small nod to tell her she’s fine.

“And when did you say it to Cosima?”

“I’ve said it a handful of times,” Delphine said, “and not just these past two or three months that we’re in therapy. I say it because I think it’s true. Gene would be proud of Cosima, prouder than he already was, if that’s even possible. I said it when Cosima finished her HPO software. I said it when she finished the first draft of her dissertation. I said it when the TV show made her a producer.”

“She said it to me a couple of weeks ago…When the software helped identify one of the affected genes,” Cosima added. “And every time she says it, I believe her. Not only because she means it, but also because I think so too - that I believe Dad would be proud. And that's a huge deal for me.”

\-----

**“I believe in us.”**

“It’s the MeN1 gene,” Delphine took over explaining and Cosima was thankful for it, not expecting how emotional she would be for this particular session. “The HPO software cracked it by predicting the expression of this gene and its physical manifestation. And along with the data we have – from Gene and from this other patient with the same disease, we were able to identify it.”

Jean looked concerned. “Is this good news or bad news for you two?”

“Both, in so many ways,” Cosima said. “The studies we have so far estimate that inherited factors may be associated in 21% of all neuro-endocrine tumors - so a two out of ten chance that a parent with NETs can pass it on to their progenies.”

“But the data from Gene and from our patient – who we found through Cosima’s rare disease social network – reveal that the tumors tend to be more inheritable when it affects the pancreas or the adrenal glands. The lab results and the disease modeling we’ve been doing back that theory too. We identified the gene because our patient’s grandmother had these tumors in her adrenal gland.”

“Dad’s tumors started in his lungs,” Cosima chimed in, “so the inheritable risk factor seems smaller. But we don’t have enough data yet to fully assert that. We don’t have my dad’s complete family history, but we’re working on that.”

“And the lack of data is bad news in itself,” Delphine said and Cosima watched her as the frustration spread all over her features.

“Yes,” Cosima patted Delphine’s thigh, “but to me that’s good news.”

“How so?” Jean asked. “Is it good news in the no-news-is-good-news vein?”

“No,” and amidst the sadness she always felt whenever she talked about Gene and the disease that killed him, Cosima eked out a small grin. “Because it gave me my favorite 4-word substitute.”

“What is it, mon amour?”

“I believe in us.” Cosima made sure to look at Delphine in the eye as she said it. “What I’ve learned in the past three months of sitting on this couch is that great partners teach us new things about ourselves,” her gaze shifted from her wife to their therapist. “And with Delphine, not only am I learning more about myself…I’m learning more about what I can do, what I’m capable of. What I could want in my life. I…I really don’t want to imagine life without her.”

“Ditto,” Delphine said, “I believe in us.” Cosima could see a few tears escape from her wife’s eyes as she repeated her words.

“I think you’ve also learned in your past 12 sessions that it’s never just because of one incident,” Jean said. “So what else brought this 4-word statement on?” 

Cosima looked at Delphine, unsure if what she’s about to say was something she already knew. “About a couple of months ago, we missed a session because we flew to Toronto,” Cosima shared.

“I remember, yes,” Jean nodded. “It was after one of the more emotional sessions we had. One of your friends got married...”

\-----

**“You want my fries?”**

_ “You look like you can use one of these,” Sarah said, holding a plate of baked goods – the smell of sugar, chocolate, and weed mixing together to make her offerings irresistible. _

_ “Thanks,” and Cosima took a brownie, pinching a small piece to try it out. “I gotta say, I’m not surprised,” and she took a bite, “this being Felix’s wedding and all.” _

_ Sarah shrugged with a grin. “Well, this is a special batch – made only for his nearest and dearest who are of age,” she took a healthy bite of her space brownie, “and also for his most loyal customers.” _

_ “I tick all those boxes right?” Cosima joked, hoping Sarah wouldn’t ask why she’s hiding and why she left Delphine alone in their table with her and Cal. _

_ But of course Sarah dashed her hopes. Of course she would ask. “I left them to catch up about whatever cutting-edge research they have going on,” she said, “so take all the time you need to spill about your troubles in paradise.” _

_ “Trouble, singular,” Cosima corrected. “And we’re making it work, going to therapy and all that.” _

_ “Therapy?” Sarah’s gentle ribbing was replaced by a look of slight concern. “It’s that bad?” _

_ “It isn’t, actually,” and Cosima sighed. “I think we got to it early enough for us to fix it. It’s just…exhausting sometimes.” She didn’t want to go into the details – how their last session where they were asked to write letters from the other’s point of view was so emotionally-draining that she was thankful to have a break from counseling. _

_ “You’re still dodging the question,” Sarah said, sucking chocolate on her fingertips. _

_ “Tell me,” Cosima took another mini-brownie from Sarah’s plate, “when is a good time to have a child?” She was surprised at first when Sarah cackled – though, with how these brownies were made, she thought maybe it was just natural for her ex-roommate to have a laughing fit. _

_ “I see…Look at you all grown up, Cos, talking about kids with Frenchie,” Sarah said in between chuckles. _

_ “Shut up. Ugh, I shouldn’t have told you,” and Cosima tried to brush the conversation away by asking for another chocolatey piece. _

_ Sarah got the giggles under control, brushing the crumbs off her hands and setting the plate aside. “There’s no good time to have a child. Kids…They don’t sleep – which means you don’t sleep too. They’ll cry about the smallest of things and it’s going to make you want to pull your eyebrows in frustration. Plus you need to give them everything you have…and when they get them, they’ll ask for more. You won’t have anything left. You’ll be an empty husk.” _

_ “Well, that’s comforting.” _

_ “Hey, you’re the one who asked,” and Sarah fished for her phone from her purse. “Kids ruin schedules, plans…You know, I was planning on going back to school before I found out I was pregnant. But,” and she unlocked her phone with a grin, “Kira was so insistent that we all attend her moving up ceremony last month – me, her dad, S, even busy Uncle Felix and Uncle Colin.” Sarah played a video on her phone. “She wanted to surprise us,” and from the video, Cosima saw the beaming faces of her friend, Cal, and their daughter. “I mean, we knew she had great grades, we just didn’t know she was at the top of her class.” _

_ Looking at Sarah, Cosima knew that the smile on her friend’s face, one of unbridled joy and pride, was caused by something way more potent than a happy brownie. _

_ “And to think I owe all this to Vic…” _

They ran out of time as Cosima started talking about her conversation with Sarah during Felix’s wedding. Jean asked her to save the story for next week, when she and Delphine would create what sounded like a vision board for their future in their last weekly session.

“So, are we going for a 10-piece or a 20-piece today?” Delphine asked as they waited in line at the drive-through.

“A 20-piece,” Cosima said with a smile, “might as well go big or go home.” It didn’t come as a surprise to her when her wife ordered her usual McRib, fries, and an apple fritter after ordering her nuggets.

While brunch before therapy was something new, the fast-food run after every session had become customary. “ _ Nothing like trans-fat to perk us up, _ ” she remembered telling Delphine after their first appointment with Jean, feeling drained and emotionally frustrated about the things they said and heard as she asked her to turn towards the drive-through. Her wife always indulged her hankering for unhealthy comfort food, reserving any form of judgment even in that one time when she wanted a 40-piece all to her own - the stress of the counseling mixed with the pressure of finishing her diss and the anxiety about Gene’s disease making her seek solace in fried food.

It had also become a habit to make an impromptu picnic out of their post-therapy meals, with Delphine laying out their food on their outdoor table while Cosima made the root beer floats. Over nuggets and fries, they would talk about everything, anything, and nothing – relishing what remained of the weekend before their respective work and responsibilities claim them for the week.

Cosima could tell as Delphine ate her sandwich and drank her root beer that she wanted to ask her something. It didn’t take long for her to come out with it. “What was it that you were going to say before we ran out of time?” 

So she told her the story of the spiked brownies during Felix’s wedding reception, all the while trying to figure out Delphine’s reaction about her conversation with Sarah.

“It’s nice that you talked about it with Sarah,” Delphine said, taking a fry and dipping it in ketchup. “But I don’t get how it’s related to us.”

“It has everything to do with us, Countess,” Cosima said, offering a timid smile to her wife as she explained.

_ “Vic the Dick? What am I missing?” Cosima was taken aback by the mention of a name long ago forgotten. _

_ “Oh, I haven’t told you? Shite…” Sarah looked perplexed and amused. “I ran into Vic that night I met Cal at the bar. I think he was trying to sell crummy coke to a few college kids. Anyway, he saw me, bought me drinks, and hassled me - you know, his usual M.O. Cal swooped in, pretended to be my date - knocked him cold when he got frisky. Of course I just had to bring my knight in shining whatever home for the night.” _

_ “This was one drug dealer away from not happening…” Cosima said, a different realization playing at the tip of her tongue and mind. “From being a completely different life.” _

_ “Yep,” and Sarah handed her the plate of special pastries. _

“For as long as we’ve known each other, it was easy for me to just think of all those years that we could have been together,” Cosima said, her nuggets momentarily forgotten. “I was so fixated with our spate of bad timing that I’ve forgotten how you and me and all our near misses wouldn’t have happened had Sarah gone to a different bar…If she didn’t run into her ex…If she didn’t meet Cal that night.”

“You stopped complaining about couples therapy after we returned from Felix’s wedding,” Delphine said, beginning to put two and two together. “I always thought it was because of the short vacation – that you felt better after a well-deserved break from counseling, from your dissertation, from neuro-endocrine tumors.”

“I began seeing things from a different light after,” and Cosima swallowed her nerves so she could be honest. “I used to think of seeing Jean and sitting on her couch every Sunday as a painful chore, like a weekly root canal – painful and unnecessary. But after what Sarah said…” and Cosima tried to keep going even if she’s getting overwhelmed by her thoughts and emotions, “I realized that the dream is us – you and me and this life we have together. And if that life involves therapy, then so be it. If that life involves us finding out that I have Dad’s illness too, then I’ll take it…I just…I want to be in this dream – in this dream of you and me - for the long haul, you know? That’s all I really want. Because when you realize that one flimsy twist of fate could have spelled the difference between having you in my life or not, things suddenly become so simple.”

She could tell by the look on Delphine’s face - eyes wide and trembling lower lip caught between teeth - that her words got through to her. At that moment in their backyard after pouring her heart out to her wife, Cosima was reminded of what they just talked about with their therapist. About the boons and banes of living a life with someone who knows you very well. She knew what Delphine was thinking and she was preparing herself mentally and emotionally to give her an answer that would be deemed acceptable. Instead, she was surprised by the words her wife said next.

“Cosima…Do, ehm…you want my fries?”

_ Sarah handed her the sinful plates just in time as Kira emerged from the great hall, looking all kinds of cute and adorable in her flower girl dress. “Mum?” and the child immediately leapt onto her lap. _

_ “What is it, Monkey?”Sarah said with a grunt and a grin. _

_ “Dad is looking for you,” and Cosima couldn’t help but laugh – whether the brownies had something to do with it or not, she didn’t know. “And Auntie Delphine is looking for you too, Auntie Cosima.” _

_ “You go on ahead, Monkey,” Sarah hugged her daughter, “We’ll catch up with you in a bit, yeah?” _

_ “Well,” Sarah said as she stood to get back to their table, “duty calls.” Cosima nodded and looked wistful, only for her ex-roommate to return barely a minute into leaving her outside. “For whatever it’s worth, there is no good time to have a child, Cos. So if you’re going to wait for the perfect time - for everything to fall into place - you’re never going to have kids. It’s that simple.” _

“Is that your 4-word sentence?” Cosima softly inquired.

“Yes,” Delphine answered as she finished her root beer float. “I’m sorry.”

Cosima stood from where she was sitting, moving to sit beside her wife. “Babe, don’t be,” and she gave her a kiss she could only hope to be breathtaking, “because I think I have a good 4-word reply to it.”

“You know you don’t have to, mon amour.”

“But I want to…” Cosima breathed deeply as she strung together a 4-word sentence of her own.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” and Delphine leaned her head on Cosima’s shoulder 

“Let’s try for kids.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for still giving this story a shot :). I hope you are all well and safe. Let me know what you think, what you like and didn't like.
> 
> My biggest thanks to Shadow_fax for her thoughtful inputs and durianmush for her insights. It was tough to start the 2017 chapter for a variety of reasons, but you guys were always so patient with me as I talked about the chapter and what would and could happen. You may recognize some of the words here - words that I would have never thought of if not for our conversations. Thank you too to Lana_Maundrell and to Corsan.
> 
> On to the next! :D


	15. August 6, 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning - this chapter isn't cheery and may have given me migraines that required long naps to quell.

The glass of water on the bedside table was the first thing Cosima saw when she opened her eyes this morning. The bedroom window had blackout drapes – essential for her habit of sleeping in, but there was enough light seeping from the ceiling skylight for the caustics of glass and water to dance on the table and on the wall. Cosima stared at the bright edges longer than she should, her half-awake brain trying to recall if she forgot about the glass last night as her eyes adjusted to the inescapable light.

She realized that the answer to her first conscious question of the day was within her reach when she sat up to soothe her cottonmouth with the nearby drink. _“You were snoring,”_ Delphine’s note beside the glass of water said - her penmanship not only legible but also beautiful even if she probably wrote this in the wee hours of the morning while she was hurrying to leave. _“I had to leave early. The morning show said there’s a shooting at Bay Bridge and they closed lanes so morning commute traffic is going to be bad. I can’t be late – big day at the lab. See you later. Thai food okay?”_

Wiping water from her chin, Cosima couldn’t help but snort at the specificity of the five sentences her wife left her with. She thought as she finished the glass that there really was no need for a bedside note because she already expected to wake up alone. She always hoped for the opposite these past few weeks, but she knew she wasn’t going to get that today. After all, today’s a big day for Delphine. The key to accomplishing one of the lab’s biggest projects - the development of viable neuroendocrine tumor cell lines – now almost at arm’s reach with Charlotte coming in today for tests and for specimen donations.

Still, Cosima's eyes lingered on the piece of paper, clutching onto it as she got up from bed. She wiped her glasses with her sleep shirt as she gingerly walked towards the window to take a peek at their backyard. She didn’t really know what she was looking for as she stared outside, but her foggy mind wandered back to a time when they were deciding what to do with the outdoor space. Delphine’s guest house idea may have been the practical choice with its lower ownership and maintenance costs, but they’re not completely closing their doors on other outdoor possibilities – at least that’s Cosima’s hope.

“ _You know who’d love a pool?_ ” _Cosima quipped as she sat on the middle of the bed while Delphine emerged from their en suite bathroom with her hands full. “Kids. Kids love water. I sure did when I was one.”_

_“Yes, Gene told me,” Delphine answered with a giggle, “something about little Cosima jumping into a diving pool with no warning whatsoever – because she wanted to see what a pool looks like from the deep end.”_

_“It was for science,” Cosima said to defend her 5-year-old self as she scooted closer to help Delphine with the stuff she’s carrying. “That’s why he taught me how to swim and tread water you know.”_

_“I think we can afford one now,” and Delphine carefully separated the needed supplies on the bed. “But the yard is too small for a pool. And even summers here can be quite cold so it’s far from practical, mon amour.”_

_“Come on,” Cosima playfully pinched Delphine on the side before tearing open a sachet of alcohol wipe. “We can squeeze in a small heated plunge pool. Put jacuzzi jets so we could burn off some steam on the weekends.”_

_“That’s very tempting, chérie,” Delphine said as she took off her shirt. “But you wouldn’t be able to swim laps in such a small pool.”_

_Cosima handed the injection containing the hCG medication Delphine mixed in their bathroom. “Don’t worry about that, babe. We can always install a resistance jet machine or something…” She placed a gentle kiss on her wife’s abdomen - just beside her navel – before thoroughly swabbing the same area with an alcohol pad. She immediately looked up when she heard Delphine exhale a shaky breath. “Hey, you okay?”_

_“Yes,” Delphine sheepishly supplied, caressing Cosima’s face to wipe away the slight concern in her eyes. “It’s just that…” And she bit her lower lip, “can you do the injection?”_

_“Babe, you’re the double doctor in this house,” Cosima opted to throw in a joke, hoping that a small giggle could rid Delphine of her nerves. “The only doctor – and if there’s someone here super qualified to administer the hormones, it’s you.”_

_“You’re a diss defense away from being Dr. Niehaus,” Delphine reminded her. “Can you just be the one to do it, please?”_

_She was trying to figure out why Delphine was all of a sudden nervous about a simple injection. Surely she’d stuck needles on people before – countless times during her residency, back in Haiti as an MSF doctor, perhaps even now when she’s more focused on researching than being a clinician. And while this may be Delphine’s first hCG injection, what happens after should be more nerve-wracking: the ovulation, picking the right sperm donor, the IUI procedure. And if that fails, what’s next? IVF? Adoption? Surrogacy? Something more experimental?_

_Cosima knew that there were bigger things to worry about, but at this juncture, she couldn’t really say no to Delphine - especially when she’s looking at her with those puppy eyes. “Okay,” and she took the injection from her wife’s hand. “Walk me through it, babe, just to be sure,” Cosima added even if she knew how to do the simple procedure._

_“Pinch a fold of skin around the injection area,” Delphine said, looking at Cosima intently as she followed her instruction. “Now insert the entire needle straight into the skin at a 45 to 90 degree angle,” she hissed at the plunge of the needle. “Slowly push the plunger until the meds are all gone.”_

_Cosima was counting a quick 1, 2, 3 in her head before letting go of the skin between her fingers. She grabbed a gauze pad from the bed to press down firmly on the injection site as she removed the needle and disposed of it in the sharps container. “Pauvre petit chiot,” she teasingly whispered, giving her wife’s belly another kiss._

_“Yes, I’m the puppy,” and Delphine kissed the top of Cosima’s head, giggling and obviously charmed._

_With their years together improving her understanding of French words, Cosima had always waited for her wife to correct her - for Delphine to say that she actually said ‘pauvre petit chou’ the first time she said those words to her all those years ago. "She really must love me to let it pass," Cosima thought. That alone was more than enough to make her swoon._

_“Thank you, mon amour…”_

_“For what?” Cosima asked, a wily smile on her face._

_“For being okay with this…For trying with me…”_

Cosima walked away from the window, shaking thoughts of impractical backyard improvements out of her head as she made her way back near the bed. She would have wanted to sleep for another hour but there’s really no point in delaying her day now that she's upright and awake. She gave Delphine’s letter one more look before opening the bedside drawer where her wife’s latest note joined a slew of other torn-up notebook pages – days’ worth of almost identical morning messages Delphine wrote these past few weeks.

\-----

With a slightly amused shake of her head, Cosima returned the dreads soap back in the shower rack, grabbing the new bottle Delphine bought instead. Maybe she wasn’t as awake as she thought she was, or – as she absently pumped a generous amount of shampoo – maybe she’s just adjusting to life without dreads. She looked at the transparent liquid on her palm, deciding to use the excessive gobs she took for her short, wet, naturally curly hair. It merely took seconds for the entire room to smell of almonds and avocados.

It was an impulse cut, she knew as much, and barely a week old. On her last day in Toronto to help promote the TV show, she walked into a salon and asked for a haircut. _“I need a change, so go nuts,”_ she told the hairdresser whose face went slightly ashen at her bold instruction. Cosima figured it was because of the daunting tasks that came with her request - undoing 14 years of dreadlocks wouldn’t be a walk in the park. But the longer she sat on the salon chair, her eyes transfixed on the mirror, the more she realized that what the hairdresser was grappling with was option paralysis. _“Do you want it short?” “How short?” “We can straighten it out? Color it? Give it purple highlights?” “Do you want bangs?” “You want to leave it curly?”_

In the end, she went with the most natural, most low-maintenance haircut she’d ever had in her adult life. Cosima couldn’t stop touching it, running her hands through her hair like it’s a nervous tic. She wondered as she got home what her wife would think of it – if the change would elicit a strong reaction. After all, for the past 13 years that they’ve known each other, Delphine had only seen her without dreads in the photo albums her parents whipped out the first time she spent the holidays with them.

Her flight home was delayed and she arrived at an already dark and quiet house with a soundly asleep Delphine in their bed. The trip wore Cosima out, waking up late the next day and delaying seeing her wife’s reaction to her new look. She settled for the words in Delphine’s morning note that day instead. “ _You look adorable and I find you very hot. Please don’t tell my wife ;),_ ” it said, the tone unexpectedly cheeky. And while the note made her smile, Cosima wondered as she read it if her wife stroked her hair while she slept, if she twirled a curl around a finger before she got up for work.

That night, she stayed up late to wait up for Delphine so she could finally get the sensation she was yearning for – her wife’s long fingers tangling around her short curls.

“ _Well, look at you,_ ” her wife said after their first kiss in almost a week, playfully pulling down a strand of her curly hair to make a faux devilock. “ _You know there’s a word for this…_ ”

“ _Uh, butch,_ ” Cosima smirked, letting Delphine get used to the change.

“ _I was going to say gamine,_ ” Delphine quipped with a shy grin, “ _I love it._ ” And that’s when Cosima knew that she made the right choice to part with her dreadlocks. It was the first time in a while since they’ve been playful with each other. And while Delphine still left early and returned home late from work the next day, Cosima took comfort in seeing the new haircare products in their bathroom. Delphine must have put it there while she slept. It was a small gesture but it spoke volumes, given how exhausting and overwhelming the past few months had been for them on all fronts.

She stepped out of the shower, finger-combing her hair before wiping the steam off the mirror with her palm. She was in the middle of brushing her teeth when she remembered the thing she had to put in for her curls to not go nuts on her. Cosima gently opened the mirror cabinet in search of the anti-frizz serum bought along with the shampoo, but her eyes landed on something else – on the lone home pregnancy test kit in Delphine’s side of the space.

Cosima inspected it, her damp fingers coasting on the box, wondering if she was the one who bought this for Delphine or if it was one of the many things given to them by the fertility clinic. She didn’t know what possessed her to take it out of the cabinet in the first place. She could tell from the packaging that it was the variant with an on-screen timer, making her remember how nervous they were that morning in April. How Delphine - a day after she missed her period - used one test after another in quick succession until they had six pregnancy tests staring back at them on the sink, all showing varying countdown times. How 10 minutes later, all the kits displayed the same results.

_Pregnant, Pregnant, Pregnant, Pregnant, Pregnant, Pregnant_

Cosima remembered crying, her happy tears mixing with a feeling of relief and anxiety. “ _We’re pregnant,_ ” were the first words she uttered both in disbelief and joy. She remembered Delphine hugging her so tight, remembered sneaking a look at their reflection in the mirror – the picture of two happy people who love each other, finally conceiving after three IUI cycles.

“ _We’re having a baby,_ ” and Delphine sealed those words with a kiss. Cosima could taste the salt in her lips, which made her hold on to her wife tighter – as if eliminating what little space there was between them was her way of instinctively protecting the life growing inside Delphine. A life Cosima didn't know she wanted in her sights. A life that they would love and care for. A life she couldn’t wait to meet in nine months’ time.

Cosima allowed herself to bask in the memories, giving the pregnancy kit one more glance before returning it exactly where she found it. She took a good look in the mirror as she fixed her hair, cataloging and trying to find comfort in all the changes she could see and touch.

\-----

Showered and out of the bedroom, Cosima immediately looked at the dry-erase board hanging on a kitchen wall before turning on the already preloaded coffee maker. Beside Monday, Delphine wrote _Breakfast_ : _Overnight Oats in a Jar (cashew, bananas, vanilla, honey)_ and sure enough, the written food was waiting for Cosima when she opened the fridge. She took it out and placed it on the counter as she grabbed a mug for her coffee and a spoon for her oats. She dipped the spoon for a taste, and while it’s milky and soft just how she likes it, she figured it could use a bit of acidity to counter the sweetness.

She found the blueberries immediately, grabbing a small handful to toss inside the jar while making a mental note to clean the fridge. She was leaning against the counter, sipping plain black coffee and eating spoonfuls of creamy oats when she got antsy, the urge to throw out spoiled food making her temporarily abandon her breakfast.

She grabbed an extra-large garbage bag from under the kitchen sink, unfurling it before opening the fridge. She threw out Chinese takeout boxes, its contents no longer okay to eat; slices of chocolate cake rolls of unknown origins that had seen better days and were now hard to the touch; a questionable eggplant that should have been grilled two weekends ago; neglected tomatoes that had shrunk with age; and what used to be perfectly green mangoes that now sport a shade of yellow and mold all over its skin. 

_“But, I thought you wanted Eskimo Pies!” Cosima laughed as she took out a box of the ice cream bar from a brown paper bag._

_“I thought so too, mon amour, I really did. I’m sorry,” and Delphine looked contrite and meek as she sat by the kitchen island. “But while you were going to the store, I realized what I really want.”_

_“Oh, no sorries needed,” Cosima said, giving Delphine a peck on her cheek before she grabbed an Eskimo Pie. “This is actually a good problem,” she opened the sweet treat before stowing the rest in the fridge. “More Eskimo Pies for me! So what do you want? What are you craving for? It’s something really weird isn’t it? Like, oh I don’t know…” and Cosima let her imagination run wild, “Deep-fried broccoli with a Doritos crust and…fish sticks dipped in chocolate on the side?”_

_Delphine made a disgusted face before looking like she was seriously considering the evil broccoli dish. “Non, ma chérie. Remember that thing we ate back in Bali?”_

_“We ate a lot in Bali,” Cosima took a healthy bite of the ice cream bar. “You have to refresh my memory.”_

_“It was green mango sambal with spicy shrimp paste,” Delphine supplied. “I think that’s what I’m craving for.”_

_“You think?” Cosima playfully quirked an eyebrow as Delphine nodded. “So sambal?”_

_“Non, just the mango and the shrimp paste,” Delphine clarified. “I can eat them as is or make the sambal myself. Buy some peppers too!”_

_Cosima finished her ice cream and gave her wife another quick kiss. “Your wish is my command, Countess,” she said before grabbing her phone and wallet while making sure the car keys were still in her pocket. “Back in a flash…”_

She didn’t mean to lie when she said she’d be back in a flash, Cosima mused as she threw the now-overripe mangoes in the trash bag. Finding shrimp paste proved to be surprisingly easy, but she needed to drive to five different Asian groceries that afternoon in her quest to buy green mangoes for Delphine – five weeks pregnant and already craving for all sorts of food. They all said the same thing: they’re out of stock because green mangoes were just beginning to be in season. 

But in the last store she visited, the clerk was helpful enough to give her a lead: a Thai oriental food market in Oakland. She got stuck in traffic and got lost trying to find the store, but the hassles were all worth it when she saw Delphine excitedly peeling the fruit before voraciously eating slices of sour mango, dipping it in shrimp paste every once in a while. Cosima couldn’t remember if she was surprised when Delphine craved for broccoli next – cheese-covered thankfully, and not Doritos-crusted. 

The mangoes were in bad shape but the shrimp paste in the fridge was still edible, not based on its pungent smell but based on its best before date. After throwing a few more stale items in the bag, Cosima immediately took out the garbage. She looked at the time when she got back to the house - it was an hour before noon and she had close to a hundred unread emails. She should really get a move on if she wanted to chip away at her to-do list for today.

\-----

Cosima had moved to the dining table with a half-eaten jar of oats and a cup of cold coffee when the clock struck 12 p.m. She sent a quick message to her wife, thanking her for the water and saying that Thai food is okay, before mindlessly going through posts and tweets on her phone. The unread email count continued to tick up in the past hour but she figured she had some time to spare. Besides, they’d still be there later when she sits down in front of her laptop to actually get some work done. She was lurking in Tumblr, reading general fan feedback and comments about the clone show, when the doorbell rang. Cosima tried to remember if there were packages scheduled to be delivered today as she went down the stairs to answer it.

She peered through the peephole and was surprised at who she saw standing on the other side of the door.

“Hey Mom,” she said, opting to act normal, although she’s sure her voice sounded somewhat surprised.

“Oh! You cut your hair…It’s…” Sally said, her hands clutching what looked like a glass baking dish that she almost dropped at the surprise of seeing Cosima without her dreadlocks.

“It’s new,” Cosima said, ruffling her hair a bit. “What are you doing here?””

“I was just in the neighborhood,” and Sally couldn’t stop staring at Cosima’s hair. “Uh, I was on my way to UCSF – to the lab, so I could finally meet Marion and Charlotte in the flesh. I thought I’d stop by here first. Your house is on the way anyway. Can I come in?”

Cosima knew it was a lie but she still nodded, taking the glass dish as her mother took off her light coat. Their house was about five freeway exits away from UCSF, so Sally – who had settled in a small bungalow near Central Berkeley after acclimating to a more relaxed academic and research schedule - really planned to stop by today. Lie or not, she’s already here and hanging her coat on their stair railing. “Would you like a plate?” Cosima asked, looking at the dish she’s holding – some sort of casserole, she guessed. “Or coffee, maybe?”

“Coffee would be great,” and Sally followed Cosima up the stairs to their house’s main living space. Her mother took a seat by the dining table, right across from where she was sitting. She placed the glass dish on the kitchen counter and proceeded to make a cup, subtly looking at her mother every once in a while to figure out the reason for her impromptu visit.

“I took a chance that you’re not in the lab yet,” Sally said by the time Cosima came back with a cup of coffee. “I made artichoke spinach lasagna last night, but I made too much…so I thought I’d drop some by for you and Delphine.”

“Yeah, well,” and Cosima took a swig of her now cold coffee, “I don’t need to be there for the lung biopsy. That’s Delphine’s thing.” She ate spoonfuls of oats to have an excuse not to talk further.

“Walk me through the project again,” Sally asked, perplexing Cosima. Surely her mother’s background in the sciences was more than enough for her to understand what the lab’s doing and trying to achieve. Still, she took the bait and explained.

“The lab wants to create publicly available neuroendocrine tumor cell lines to be shared with any researcher, any lab, anywhere in the world,” Cosima started. “Delphine immediately thought of that when we first knew about Charlotte, given how Dyad technically owns whatever specimen they have left from Dad’s clinical trial.”

“And Leekie doesn’t want to share,” Sally said.

“Nope,” and Cosima scoffed at the idea that a corporation owns whatever’s left of her father. “Though I think they’re running low on samples, given how long they’ve been trying to develop and patent an iPSC therapy for it…Anyway, if the project is successful in creating one or more validated cell lines, we can begin drug screening. The Kyoto University will screen a comprehensive library of drug compounds on the cell lines to see if there’s already an existing drug that can kill the cell tumors.”

“So where do you enter the picture?” Sally asked.

“Well,” and Cosima decided to just roll with her mother’s questions, “the HPO software will try to isolate the genomic alterations responsible for tumor growth with the data from DNA and RNA tumor sequencing. We’ve already identified a handful with the data we have from Dad, Charlotte, and a few others yielded from the rare disease network. But identifying affected genes is just one part of the mystery. There’s still very minimal understanding of how the gene alterations develop or advance the disease. The cell lines would also enhance the iPSC disease modeling project Delphine had been doing. So my work will complement that...”

Cosima realized as she talked about the lab’s big project that this was the first time in a while that she talked extensively to her mother. The last time they had a conversation that lasted for more than five minutes was in mid-May when she told her that she and Delphine were expecting. They were tempering their optimism at first, but after Delphine’s six-week check-up, they agreed that the time was right for them to share the news to their nearest and dearest.

Sally was in Buenos Aires then, providing technical advice to one of the country’s biggest zoos about expanding their existing marine biopark. She was the first person they called because of time zone considerations. It was 4 p.m. in San Francisco, which meant it was just past dinner for Sally. They figured they could call her first, then Sarah and Felix who were both in Toronto, then Jérémie in Thailand while having breakfast with his family. They’d call Delphine’s parents the next day after brunch, not wanting to wake them up in the middle of the night.

They were sitting beside each other by their dining table with mugs of tea when Sally answered their call after three rings. Cosima didn’t need to hear the surprise in her mother’s voice to know that Sally never thought that the day would come when she would become a grandmother. From thousands of miles away, she could sense her mother reining in her emotions, choosing to ask how far along they were and how Delphine’s doing instead of just squealing in happiness over their news. “ _You’re the first person we told,_ ” Delphine said after talking about her bouts of nausea, which left Sally speechless for a minute before managing to say, “ _this is the best news I’ve gotten in a really long time. I’m so happy for you two._ ” Cosima just smiled and grinned the entire duration of the 15-minute phone call, chiming in every once in a while to pretend-complain about Delphine’s weird food cravings.

If her mother never thought that she’d be a grandmother, Cosima wondered if the time would ever come when she and Sally can sit in one room together without any unspoken, unresolved tension. She wondered now as silence permeated between them after the science talk if it’s better for them to just speak over the phone than in person.

“I best be going,” Sally said after quickly finishing her coffee. Cosima nodded and stood up to see her mother out. “You look well,” she added as she re-wore her coat.

“You too, Mom,” and Cosima was surprised that her mother pulled her in for a hug that she returned, albeit awkwardly. She could tell that Sally wanted to say more, but thankfully, she kept whatever words she had to herself as she left the house and walked to her car. Maybe things would always be terse between them, but as Cosima watched her mom pull off and drive away, she felt a strange sense of solace from her unexpected visit.

\-----

Cosima lounged on the living room couch and started chipping away at her workload with something relatively easy. The showrunners sent in the first draft of the new season’s first episode for her feedback. They went with the chimerism storyline that she pitched – something that she and Delphine first talked about way back when she just got the consultancy gig. Her ideas and her interpretation of the science had been integrated well which made her work easy, eliminating most of the long, circuitous video calls and emergency visits to Toronto to explain the storylines to the studio execs who thought the science was too complex and out of touch. 

They were hopeful when the show debuted last year. They believed in it and in the stories it wanted to tell - stories of autonomy and unlikely sisterhoods, while depicting the representation sorely lacking in the TV landscape nowadays. It’s a show that placed women front and center of the story. A show blessed with a dedicated crew and an amazing cast, headed by a talented, charismatic, and hard-working lead actress who tirelessly portrayed six clones in the first season. They were hopeful but had low expectations, given the unusual sci-fi storyline and the execs’ lukewarm reception of the stories the show told. But somehow, the show resonated with a lot of people and through word of mouth, the little-clone-show-that-could picked up a loyal following halfway through the first season. But with more viewers came more prying eyes. The network and the studio wanted a banging new season, which meant more hours working on storylines and arcs, on new characters and new clones.

Cosima hated leaving Delphine alone to fly to Toronto, wanting to be at her wife’s beck and call at all times. But Delphine urged her to go, “ _I’m fine,_ ” she repeatedly said back in late June, almost 11 weeks into her pregnancy when the execs requested a face-to-face meeting about the chimera storyline. “ _The check-up went well and I’m feeling better. Besides, you have sacrificed enough, mon amour,_ ” Delphine added to convince her further, bringing her decision to forego defending her dissertation until the baby is born. Cosima reluctantly packed a bag, promising to return immediately.

Thankfully, the entire trip only took three days. She spent a pretty penny rebooking her flight home to surprise her wife, but it was Cosima who was surprised at the sight she saw at the very same couch she was sitting on now.

 _“Cosima, oh Cosima…”_ She could still hear the ghost of her wife’s voice if she closed her eyes, the image of Delphine lying on the couch, naked from the waist down and bringing herself to orgasm with her fingers still vivid even if the memory was more than a month old.

“ _I’m here, baby,_ ” she remembered whispering, immediately putting down her bags to be by her wife’s side.

Delphine slowly opened her eyes, the shock overshadowed by a feeling of relief and lust. “ _Come here and make me come,_ ” she said as she sat up on the middle of the couch, casually leaning on the cushions as she unbuttoned her work blouse to reveal newly tender breasts.

Cosima shrugged off her coat, stepped out of her shoes, and took off her dress with one quick pull, leaving the garments on the floor as she hurried to be at her wife’s beck and call. She got pulled into a searing kiss before she knelt, coasting a small kiss on the bump that had begun to show on Delphine’s belly as she ran her palms on top of creamy thighs. “ _Someone’s really horny,_ ” she couldn’t help but tease before tossing her glasses on the coffee table. “ _Tell me what you were picturing before I got here._ ”

She felt Delphine’s fingers running through her dreads, her wife impatiently pulling her face and lips towards an already wet center. “ _I was thinking about the first time we made love in Paris…You remember?_ ” Delphine’s moans interrupted her story as Cosima began to pick up where her wife’s fingers left off.

Cosima gently urged her to slide a bit down so her lips and tongue could make a more perfect contact. It was more for her benefit than Delphine’s, who she sensed was already so close to orgasm. “ _Tell me more,_ ” she hummed.

“ _I couldn’t wait to get back in the apartment,_ ” Delphine whispered, letting out a groan as Cosima continued working her up. “ _We could have walked but I wanted to take a taxi. I told the driver to hurry. I couldn’t wait for you to be inside me. I couldn’t wait for your lips to taste me again. And I couldn’t wait for you to teach me how to make you melt with my fingers, with my tongue…_ ”

She was encouraged by the memories of what happened the minute they closed the door of the Auteuil apartment. How pliant Delphine was to her touch, how Cosima pushed her up against the wall, stroking Delphine through her underwear before kneeling down to take them off and make love to her with her tongue and lips. She could still remember the feeling of Delphine’s leg hooked over her back, fingers clutching on dreads. The look on Delphine’s face when she came that afternoon wasn’t so different from the way she looked as her arousal gushed on Cosima’s mouth and on their couch.

“ _Take me to bed, Cosima,_ ” Delphine said when she came down from her high, re-echoing the same words she said from the memory that stoked her desire.

Cosima shook the memory out of her head, needing to get back to work so she could have something to show for this day. She refocused her attention on the tablet and on the script. The new storyline entailed not only male clones but a new pivotal character – the chimera herself. In this version of the script she’s reading on her tablet, the character was only referred to as _the original,_ and on the side of one of the pages, the showrunners scribbled a note for her.

“ _Cosima,_ _what should we name her?_ ” It said when Cosima zoomed in.

She wanted nothing more but to concentrate on the task at hand, but the question – posted so casually – only made the memory of making love with her wife on this couch and in this room more distracting and potent.

“ _I’ve always been partial to girl names that could have guy nicknames,_ ” Cosima said as she stroked Delphine’s blonde hair that had gone unruly with their activities. They never made it to the bed as Delphine immediately returned the favor, topping Cosima on the living room floor. “ _I love the name Aurora for some reason._ ”

“ _Aurora,_ ” Delphine said, trying out the name and smiling at the sound of it.

“ _We can call her Rory for short,_ ” and Cosima rummaged for her coat on the floor to bring out her phone, unlocking it to look at her phone’s wallpaper – the 10-week sonogram of their baby. “ _Hey Rory,_ ” she said and it made Delphine's smile even bigger.

“ _We’ll put Aurora in the list then. How about Timea?_ ” Delphine asked, repositioning a bit so that she’s lying on her side with her head still resting on Cosima’s bare thigh. “ _It’s Hungarian. A bit more unique...but I quite like it._ ”

“ _That could work too,_ ” Cosima said, still stroking her wife’s hair and looking at her phone. “ _Hey Tim…_ ” she cooed. “ _Margaret also works,_ ” she added.

“ _Marguerite?_ ” Delphine answered, giving the English name a French twist. “ _She could be a Gary._ ”

“ _We’re going to be so screwed if it turns out to be a boy,_ ” Cosima joked. “ _We haven’t thought of boy names yet._ ”

“ _Maybe for now, we can retain the names we have. Rory, Tim, Gary – simple names always work, no matter the sex of the baby.”_

_“Yeah, especially if they’ll be a Cormier-Niehaus. You need a simple name because your last name is a mouthful. A good mouthful though...”_

_“Nothing is set in stone yet, chérie,”_ Delphine placed a kiss on Cosima’s thigh. _“And in a few weeks, maybe we could tell what name we should be picking out._ ”

“ _And we have to be in Paris soon, right? For Pasteur?_ ” Cosima asked. “ _I’ll have plenty of time to think of names then._ ”

“ _No, we don’t,_ ” Delphine said. “ _I just told my chair and the head of research that we’re pregnant and that I can’t be traveling much for work. So we’re staying put in San Francisco until we meet Rory, Gary, or Tim._ ”

“ _I should tell the TV show people so I can duck out of the Toronto meetings,_ ” Cosima said, “ _so I can make you come anytime you want._ ”

A single tear escaped Cosima’s eyes as she read the script now, scribbling the first name that popped into mind in the notes. She got up from the couch, needing to move somewhere else so she could work. The last thing she wanted was to drown in memories that make her heart flutter and break all at the same time.

\-----

Cosima meant to go to their shared office downstairs but she found herself walking past it to walk through the backyard and into the separate guest house. She curled up into a ball in the bed, covered in the blue comforter that still smelled of her and Delphine even if it was last used a few weeks ago.

She knew her day would not be easy the minute she remembered the names they picked out - names that they needed to tuck away along with the baby books and parenting books they excitedly bought; rolls of beige wallpaper that was supposed to adorn the nursery; the soft, small gray blanket that Sally sent as a present for her first grandchild; and the nursery books that Delphine’s parents mailed in a package – Bonsoir Lune, Je suis petite, moi?, and Je t'aimerai toujours.

Cosima stowed them all in this guest house, out of sight in the main house but rarely out of her mind.

They came into UCSF for the 14th week check-up bursting with excitement at the prospect of maybe finally finding out if their baby would be an Aurora or a Tim. Delphine was trying to not get their hopes up, telling her that it may be too early to see the sex of the baby. It was a typical check-up in a typical exam room on a typical July afternoon. Everything was going well, until Delphine saw the silver shadows in the ultrasound.

Cosima was just about to take a photo of her new phone wallpaper - their baby at 14 weeks - when Delphine spoke, her voice small and suddenly robbed off the joy that filled their car ride just minutes ago. “ _Give me your phone,_ ” she said to her. She remembered freezing where she stood as Delphine compared the 14-week ultrasound image with the 10-week sonogram that she’d been using as her wallpaper for a month.

Delphine may have the M.D. after her last name, but Cosima majored in Bio too. She knew what Delphine was thinking. She didn’t need to see the panic in her wife’s eyes or sense the hint of sadness in the ultrasound technician’s voice when she said she needed to call the doctor. Glancing between her phone and at the ultrasound, she knew what Delphine knew – that the fetus at 10 weeks seemed to be of the same size at 14 weeks. 

She was excited by the prospect of knowing the sex of their baby, while Delphine was excited to hear the baby’s heartbeat again. But all that was taken away from them when the doctor confirmed what they already knew but didn’t want to believe. They couldn't find a heartbeat. The fetus did stop growing at 10 weeks. These things usually happen in the first trimester, the doctor said. “ _A miscarriage is nature’s way of ending a pregnancy that’s not viable and that would not be healthy,_ ” the doctor added. 

How they managed to keep a dignified front as they walked out of the exam room Cosima didn’t know. She remembered holding onto Delphine’s hand as they left the hospital, latching on to words the doctor said as they discussed Delphine’s options for miscarriage treatment: “ _I’m sorry for your loss,_ ” and “ _It’s not your fault._ ” They were quiet in the drive home, with the only words uttered revolving around clearing their schedules for the MVA procedure Delphine chose to have as soon as possible. They wordlessly stayed in the car for a short eternity, turning the engine off as the garage door closed - as if they could compartmentalize the loss within the confines of the car if they stayed there longer.

It was Cosima who got out of the car first. “ _I’ll go tell them,_ ” she volunteered and Delphine gave a weak nod but didn’t move to alight. She got in the house and climbed up the stairs, settling to sit in one of the middle stairsteps. She called her mother first, the phone call short but so emotionally draining that she decided to just send text messages to everyone else after. She worried for Delphine as she sent a message to Jérémie. She could take care of telling her brother, her parents, their friends, Scott and some of her fellow professors and researchers who she also knew. But the other people that were informed not out of love but out of obligation: Delphine’s chair, the research head in Pasteur, her other colleagues in UCSF, Berkeley, Paris, and Kyoto - would have to hear the news straight from Delphine. Her heart ached for her wife, who was all of a sudden saddled not only with what happened but also with the additional administrative tasks of a miscarriage.

“ _Miscarriage,_ ” Cosima found herself saying aloud, as if naming what just happened was going to help lighten the loss or lessen the hurt.

She decided to turn off her phone when all the messages she could send were sent, but not before changing her wallpaper. Cosima walked back to the garage only to find the car empty. She panicked for a bit, afraid that Delphine walked away, until she saw the light inside the tiny house.

Delphine was sitting on the bed, eyes wet and bottom lip ensnared. She began to shake like a leaf when she saw Cosima, her cries filling the small space. All Cosima could do was grab the same comforter enveloping her now as she and Delphine laid on the bed, their tears and cries mixing together as they held each other.

" _Serrez-moi contre vous,”_ Delphine wept as she held Cosima's arm to tighten her embrace. _"Please hold me tight."_

There was no one to hold her now, Cosima thought as she cried for the child she never thought she’d ever want in her future - a life they would no longer meet in months’ time, a life suddenly lost and now being mourned for. She pressed the comforter closer to her body, hoping to not feel so alone by seeking warmth in the hint of Delphine’s perfume on the fabric.

\-----

Cosima managed to get herself together eventually, emerging from the guest house to cross the backyard and get settled in their shared home office. Still wrapped in the blue comforter, she began to check her inbox, answering important emails while filing or deleting the rest. She got it down to a healthy 14 unread emails before sending her feedback on the script she read so she could tend to more pressing tasks.

She needed to polish and edit the documentation of the HPO software and the rare disease network in time for her dissertation presentation next month. She sent her intention to defend her diss two weeks after they miscarried, having no reason to delay it further. Her adviser emphasized the need for her to focus on her work’s proofs of concept. “ _When they see that it works – that it has already been effectively used in the actual practice of medicine and immunology - they’d have no reason to hold you back,_ ” Cosima remembered Professor Ross telling her over Skype “ _And don’t forget to make the science personal,_ ” she added cautiously after telling her she’s sorry for their loss.

She knew what Ross wanted her to do – integrate Charlotte Bowles’ story into her diss, how the rare disease network found her and got her and her mother to sign off on donating specimens that could help develop a cure and provide a better molecular understanding of a rare disease that claimed her father’s life. It was tedious work but she had all the data she needed to integrate it, if only she could focus on the task at hand and not on her recent loss.

In moments like this, she envied Delphine a little. She needed less than a week after her MVA to get back on the horse again, devoting all her time to the lab in preparation for Charlotte’s arrival in San Francisco. Cosima didn’t want to admit how much she resented Delphine at first - how she seemed to have only needed a day of tears to move on with her life. She kept the resentment to herself for as long as she could, biting her tongue and simmering in the emotion for days, before it became too much that all she could do was snap.

“ _You know what I don’t get,_ ” she remembered confronting Delphine who was reviewing Charlotte’s medical files on her laptop in their home office. “ _It was me who had doubts about having children. We spent a good chunk of time in therapy to sort that out. Yet here I am, fucking heartbroken and you...You -_ ”

“ _What am I?_ ” Delphine asked, still focused on her screen. “ _What am I, Cosima?_ ” She asked again, swiveling the office chair to face her when her question was met with silence. “ _Tell me._ ”

“ _You act like it never happened,_ ” Cosima answered, regretting saying those words the second they left her mouth.

She remembered Delphine’s face when she said them, how her eyes seethed with what could only be a combination of fury and hurt. Cosima expected her to scream. Maybe she wanted her to scream. React. Say anything to her apart from talking about what she’s been doing in the lab, nevermind that she’s leaving for Toronto again and she had chosen to quarrel with her wife the night before her trip.

Instead, Delphine let out a breath, her face taking in a more neutral expression. “ _Grief looks different on everyone, Cosima.”_ She turned to face her laptop again even if she wasn’t finished talking. _“Just because I’m not crying about it every night, just because I’m not drinking myself to death doesn’t mean I’m not grieving. That I have magically forgotten and moved on. There is no one way to grieve._ ”

“ _Then at least grieve with me, Delphine,_ ” Cosima pleaded, walking to her wife and hugging her from behind. “ _Or just talk to me. And if you can’t talk to me, then maybe we can go visit Jean and talk it out there. Things don’t have to change for the worse. We can try again in a few months._ ”

“ _That’s the problem,_ ” Delphine said, still refusing to face her. Cosima realized that it was the coldest her wife had been while she tried to hold her in her arms. “ _Things were supposed to change. I’m supposed to be unable to fit in my usual clothes because my belly has gotten bigger. Yet here I am, still wearing the same clothes at home, to work._ ” Delphine’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, but she didn’t type anything. “ _My breasts are back to their normal size,_ ” she said, her eyes darting to a space in their home office littered with books. “ _We were going to move those books to make room for another crib and a changing table – so we could look after our child while we work. Everything is the same, Cosima. Nothing’s changed. And that…that just makes everything sadder. So don’t tell me - don’t even insinuate - that I’m not as devastated as you are about what happened._ ”

“ _I’m sorry._ ”At that moment, Cosima felt small – as small as how she felt every time she sobered up after getting drunk, drugged, and stoned when she was dealing with her father’s death. Still, she took a chance and turned Delphine’s chair so they could look at each other in the eye. “ _Tell me what you need, Delphine. Tell me and I will give it to you._ ”

She was surprised when Delphine rested her forehead on hers, looking at her with eyes that were now fighting back tears. “ _I need you to let me be invested in something other than you. I need you to not judge me when I funnel whatever emotional investment I have for our child into something else. What I need is for you to let me work._ ”

“ _Okay,_ ” she said, unsure what she’s agreeing to but still giving Delphine a kiss so timidly received and reciprocated. “ _If that’s what you need…I’ll let you focus on the work, no questions asked._ ” Grief looks different on everyone, Cosima thought, as she watched Delphine wipe her eyes before going back to reading Charlotte’s case file. Her picture of grief was a bottle of vodka and questionable life choices. Delphine’s picture of grief was work, immersing in it in the hopes of getting so lost in it that she could temporarily forget about what is no longer there. That’s just something she had to live and deal with.

In the past weeks since the miscarriage, Cosima had been trying to not only give what Delphine asked for but to also get lost in her own work - with varying levels of success. Some days go by quickly as she whittle away at the final touches of her diss. But days like today, when every place in their house reminded her of what they lost, had been aplenty. She took comfort in their new routines: the morning notes from her wife, the smell of a new shampoo, the later than usual dinners, and the naps she could take in the middle of her occasional work-from-home days. 

Cosima would be the first to admit that naps had been essential to her sanity nowadays. Whether it’s a bad day or a productive day, she always ended up napping in one of the lounge chairs in their shared study. Today being both left her exhausted emotionally and mentally. Cosima managed to finish a huge chunk of her work on her diss when she decided that a nap before their supper was not only in order but also well-deserved.

She felt disoriented when she woke up to a very dark room and a quiet house. She looked at the time in her phone, a bit surprised that it’s a little past 10 p.m. Delphine usually woke her up for late dinner, but maybe she wasn’t home yet – the big day at the lab probably resulting in a long night, needing to spend extra hours cataloguing and analyzing whatever new information and data they got. Wrapping the comforter around her, Cosima groggily climbed up the stairs, rubbing sleep off her eyes and deciding to get a plate of her mother’s lasagna for her grumbling stomach while watching TV and waiting for Delphine to come home. She was nearing the kitchen when something caught her eye – a slit of light in the room she dare not enter, a room that only a few weeks ago she had to clear out while she silently wept.

She didn’t know what to expect as she gently pushed the door open to a room infused with soft, yellow light. The light in what should have been the nursery highlighted the portion of the wall where they experimentally stuck the wallpaper they chose a month ago – the cream wallpaper with a large dandelion print, its florets and seeds floating away. In the middle of the room, Delphine sat - hugging her knees close to her chest, the glass and bottle of whiskey beside her left untouched.

Grief looked different on everyone, Cosima thought. But whatever form it took, however it manifested, all she knew the moment she heard Delphine weep was that she needed to be there for her wife, needed for her to feel that she’s not alone in her grief.

“I’m right here,” and the only acknowledgement she got from Delphine were the violent shaking of her shoulders as her sobs filled the room. “You have me,” Cosima said as she sat behind her wife, hugging her with her entire body and wrapping the comforter around them. “For better or for worse, no matter if things don't change...You’re not alone in this,” and the raw sadness Delphine tried to hide with long lab hours was suddenly out in the open as she burrowed her face on Cosima’s chest, her tears soaking her shirt.

They’d been unsure where to go from losing someone they'd never even met, but as Cosima eased Delphine to lay down with her on the floor, she knew that they would have to carry the sadness together no matter how heavy it could get. She gave a delicate kiss on Delphine’s shoulder, hoping that would make her feel safe as she sobbed. There would be days when one of them has to carry the heavier weight, Cosima thought at the feel of her wife’s breaths slowing down. She just had to find a way to make her shoulders stronger for days like this when Delphine couldn’t carry anymore.

They had one way forward and this was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter, this story. I have to admit that I am mostly in the dark about what I chose to write for this year - that the kind of loss talked about in 2018 was something I haven't personally experienced. Which is why if you have a take on this or if you feel like I didn't do an okay job writing about it (which I probably didn't and I'm very sorry about that), please feel free to call me out. I would be so thankful for it.
> 
> I want to thank durianmush and Shadow_fax for the patience and the chats as I wrote this chapter. I put in some Easter eggs for you guys :). Thank you to Corsan and Lana_Maundrell too as always. On to 2019. Stay well and take care.


End file.
